Red Snow : Goblet of Fire (A Grey Descent Remake)
by Belle P
Summary: Isavela Snow , Lycan descendant and daughter to one of the most obscure assassins known to the wizarding world, has decided to end her self-induced solitude after the murder of her parents nine years ago . With her powers on the rise and the sweet whisper of revenge in her ear, how's she to deal with a new school , old faces , and a deadly tournament that could change everything ?
1. Family

**Chapter One: Family**

"_**Of all the rocks upon which we build our lives, we are reminded that family is the most important."**_

Over the deafening beat of my racing heart in my chest and the constant, almost rhythmic, thud of my feet hitting the ground, the sound of a true tragedy replayed over and over again in my head. I gritted my teeth and focused determinedly on my reflection in the mirror that covered the entire north wall of my training room as I continued my jump rope exercise, refusing to be pulled back into that dark memory. My eyes burned as sweat trickled down my face; my arms ached as I pumped them faster still, the rope becoming nothing more than a black blur around me. My breathing became erratic, almost desperate, as my lungs protested but I pushed myself harder. I felt my bouncy, curly hair coming loose from its band and as my feet touched the ground once more, it burst free. The sight of it flaring around my head destroyed my concentration, and suddenly I was no longer in my training room.

_From my hiding place beneath my parent's bed, my view of the intruders was limited. All I could see were their dirty, bare feet and the torn hem of their pants. Their toenails were black and crusted over with what looked like dried blood. I recoiled at the sight, and the scent of blood and rotting flesh assaulted my nose. I pressed my hand over my mouth and nose so as not to make a sound as the leader of the three men, Fenrir, as my father had called him moments before his…death, paced back and forth before the bed. Though I was terrified to be discovered, my focus was impossible to maintain as the dead bodies of both my parents lay sprawled less than two feet away from me. My mother, her beautiful obsidian curls splayed around her, had turned her head to meet my eyes mere seconds before that __**monster**__ had placed his disgusting foot on her neck, and crushed her throat. _

_As the memory of less than five minutes ago replayed over and over in my mind, and the pain in my chest festered, a whimper escaped my lips. And though muffled, the small sound echoed in the tense silence of the room. I slowly slid backward, deeper into the shadows beneath the gigantic bed, but suddenly, the yellow-eyed face of the most feared werewolf in the wizarding world glared at me as he kneeled down onto the floor._

My younger self's scream brought me back to the present and I realized that I was on my knees, the rope on the floor beside me, my hair curtaining around my face, and sweat wasn't the only thing streaming down my face. Angrily, I wiped the moisture away and climbed slowly to my feet as a wave of dizziness hit me. Clenching my jaw, I forced down the vomit that threatened to come up, and took deep, even breaths. When I felt as though I could move without passing out, I quickly cleaned up my training room and left, heading for my bedroom on the third and highest level.

Those gruesome images stayed at the forefront of my mind, even as I stood beneath the scalding water in the shower, scrubbing my skin raw as if to get rid of Fenrir's touch when he had grabbed my arms and dragged me, kicking and screaming, from underneath my parents' bed nine years ago. It seemed pain and rage fought for dominance within my chest, and it became a difficult task to simply intake air into my lungs. My fingers itched and I flexed my hands as the usual tingling of a transformation began. It was hard to control sometimes, particularly when I was in that current state of emotion, and I forced myself to breathe deeply until the urge subsided.

I stared into the mirror above my bathroom sink as I wrapped myself in a plain black towel. My honey colored skin still shone in the bathroom's light with moisture, and my hair dripped onto my back and shoulders. My favorite physical feature, without a doubt, was my brilliant amber eyes that had been passed down to me from my father's side, though I was damn near my mother's twin however, a fact that pleased me more the older I got. I was currently fourteen, but on days like this, I felt much older than that.

Grief and loss aged a person quickly.

At the thought, a brief flare of hate rose in my gut and I clamped down on it. I had long since vowed to repay that bastard Fenrir for taking away the two most important people in my life, but I knew that wallowing in that rage would do nothing except drive me insane. I stood still and cocked my head to the side as I stared at myself in the mirror. I felt a tingling on the either side of my head, until, slowly, my ears shifted into those of a wolf and I listened. Upon hearing only the normal sounds of nature outside of the manor, I returned my ears to normal and sighed. Though I had a faithful and loving house-elf, Prim, that lived with me and took care of me, being the only actual human living in such a huge home was incredibly lonely most of the time. Sure, I enjoyed my solitude, but I grew tired of being alone for so many years.

Perhaps that was what had sparked my sudden decision to enroll at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the upcoming fall term in September. I had hired tutors to come to the manor five times a week to teach me what I needed to know and then some extra skills, but I wanted the whole school experience, with classes, professors, and actual students my age. Though I refused to admit it out loud…I wanted to make actual friends. "It would be easier if I didn't live so isolated from the rest of the wizarding world." I muttered as I entered my room, and opened my dresser to pick out underclothes. "I mean, sure, I have other houses but I'd prefer something smaller…cozier."

"Is Mistress Isavéla needing advice?" the squeaky voice of my house-elf, Prim, said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see her perched comfortably on the edge of my large bed.

"Actually…yes. Prim, what would you advise I do for the upcoming school year?" I asked as I dropped my towel, neither of us embarrassed as Prim had been the one to most often change my diapers and bathe me throughout my childhood.

"When Prim is out getting items for Mistress Isavéla, she is hearing that that new branch of Diagon Alley, where they was building those wizarding homes, is finally being open." Prim said calmly.

My eyebrows rose. "You think we should move into one of those houses?" I said.

Prim gave a delicate shrug, and I couldn't help but smile at how much less high strung she was than most house-elves. "Prim is simply making a suggestion, Mistress Isavéla. It wouldn't hurt to be seeing the houses first, and deciding later."

"And that," I grinned, "is why you're my favorite house-elf, Prim."

She smiled largely, her huge blue eyes beaming. "Also because Prim is being your only house-elf, Mistress Isavéla."

I snorted. "Prim, why do you insist on calling me Isavéla, instead of Izzy, like mum and dad use to?" I asked softly.

Prim shook her head solemnly. "It would not be proper, Mistress Isavéla."

I stared at the suddenly sad house-elf, and realized that I hadn't been the only one affected by the loss of my parents. Prim had known my parents longer than I had, and their deaths must've hurt her immensely as well. Though sad, it was nice knowing I wasn't in this alone. "Prim, can you get Wizarding Estates on the floo while I get dressed, please? I'd like to look at the houses today, if it's possible."

"It shall be done, Mistress Isavéla." And with that, Prim popped away.

Walking over to my nicely sized closet, I shifted through loads of clothing items until finally, I decided on blue skinny jeans, a sheer black button down, and black sandals. I towel dried my hair before I dressed and strapped my wand in its special holster on my right thigh, where it shimmered for a second, before becoming invisible. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I left my room and headed down to the foyer at the front of the manor, where the gigantic main fireplace waited. The emerald green flames of the floo network crackled and as I stepped in front of the fireplace, I came face to face with a pretty woman with a kind smile. Her auburn hair was pulled back and from what I could see of her clothes, she was dressed rather casually for a real-estate agent.

"Miss Snow, I presume?" she greeted as I appeared.

"Yes ma'am," I said respectfully. "Pleased to meet you."

Her smile seemed a tad bit brighter. "The pleasure is all mines and please, my name is Dania. Now, I understand you would like to take a look at the wizarding homes that have been recently finished in the community branching off of Diagon Alley, correct?" she asked.

"Yes," I nodded, "I was wondering if I could possibly tour the homes today? I would like to make a decision as soon as possible."

"If you don't mind my asking, Miss Snow, why the rush to obtain one of these homes?" Dania asked carefully.

"No, I don't mind. I currently live rather far away from the general wizarding world, not many neighbors at all, and what with me starting school at Hogwarts this fall, I would like to live closer." I answered honestly. Dania stared at me for a moment, before nodding.

"Then please, step through to my office and we can get on over to Diagon Alley."

"I'll be back later Prim!" I called, before holding my breath, and stepping through the harmless green flames. After a moment of dizziness, I arrived in a cool and well-kept office, and stood face to face with Dania, who was quite a few inches taller than my 5'5 height. I shook her hand, and she held out a rolled up Daily Prophet.

"A portkey," she explained, "that'll take us directly to the gates of the community."

"Does it have a name yet?" I asked.

"They're working on it." Dania said simply. With a light shrug, I grabbed the other end of the paper, and we were instantly whisked away. After landing easily on both feet, I looked around at my new surroundings. Behind me were the usual bustling streets of Diagon Alley, filled with people of all kinds going about their shopping on this bright, summer's day, however, in front of me, were two tall golden gates, currently closed, and being guarded by two men. Beyond the gate, a rather upscale suburban community awaited, with a street curving down the middle, and huge houses on either side. The thing that immediately caught my eyes was that, while all beautiful homes, none of them were exactly the same.

Dania led me to the men in front of the gate and flashed what looked like an ID, or perhaps her real-estate card. Either way, the men nodded and tapped the gate with their wands. Without a creak, the golden gates slid open and we stepped inside. Crossing into the community, I immediately felt the difference in the air. Looking sideways at Dania, I raised an eyebrow. "It's warded, isn't it?" I asked.

She appeared surprised. "You can feel that?"

I shrugged. "It just feels different." I said simply, though I knew there was more to it than that.

"Well Miss Snow, how do you want to do this?" Dania asked brightly. "We can simply walk around and look at whichever houses catch your eye, or you can describe what you're looking for and narrow it down."

"I would like…" I pondered, "A house with a nice sized porch, lots of shade, as well a balcony of sorts. It needs to have lots of window to let in the sunlight, and a large backyard, for sure."

Dania eyes seemed distant for a moment before she smiled and nodded. "There are quite a few houses in here that fit the description. So we'll look at them until you find one that calls to you, alright?"

"Let's do it." I agreed.

Two hours and eleven houses later and I was very much discouraged, though Dania seemed to be having a blast. All of the houses we looked at were beautiful, but none of them screamed _Home_ to me, and that's what I was looking for. "Maybe we should stop, Dania." I sighed.

"Oh Merlin, no! There's one last house I had in mind, and I have a feeling about this one." She insisted. I refrained from rolling my eyes, noting the fact that she'd _had a feeling_ about every single house we'd already went through. But it was only one house, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a chance.

We were currently on the southern end of the community, and Dania led me as we walked to the very center of it, where a huge fountain sparkled in the sunlight, and Dania stopped me and gestured to the house behind it. As I eyed it, I felt something tug in my chest. It was a stunning white duplex, with two shiny white marble steps leading up to the wide front porch. There were many large windows from what I could see, and I felt a bubble of excitement. I walked up the path to the porch and admired the cool atmosphere in the shade, a nice change from the hot sun. Upon entering the house, I instantly fell in love with the interior. The walls were all bright white, the countertops and floors were all white Italian marble, there was plenty of natural light, and open space. On the first floor, there was the living room, kitchen, two bathrooms, an indoor theater, and an entertainment room. On the second floor were four nicely sized guestrooms, all with bathrooms, a room with built-in bookshelves for a library, and an extra room that I just knew would make a perfect training room. The third and top floor had the master bedroom with a huge bathroom and excellent closet space, and in the master bedroom, double glass doors led out onto a long, wide terrace with plenty of shade and space for furniture. I had a nice view of Diagon Alley from the terrace and the sparkling in-ground pool in my backyard, surrounded by concrete, loads of space for tanning chairs and such. And as Dania and I headed back outside, my decision had already been made.

"This is the one, Dania. This is my new home." I said seriously, a smile on my lips.

Dania's face lit up. "That's amazing. People so very rarely find their dream home on the first trip, and other families have already moved in, so you'll already have neighbors. Now, when would you like to move in?"

"If you can have the papers ready within the next ten minutes, then I'll send my house-elf to get the money from my vault. I'd like to move in as soon as possible, so as to have maximum time to get used to it." I said bluntly. Dania's smile was so large, it looked painful, and I resisted the urge to take a step back from her.

"Excellent, excellent," she said excitedly. "Give me ten minutes to pop on over to my office and we can seal the deal."

"Excellent," I repeated. As Dania apparated away, a thought crossed my mind. "I can't have people popping in and out of my house… I suppose I have to go to Gringotts myself anyway."

With that thought, I said a mental goodbye to my new home and left, making my way quickly to the front gates and into Diagon Alley proper. As I walked through the busy, crowded roads, listening to the loud sounds of shoppers, merchandise, and various animals, I realized that I was still holding onto the Daily Prophet that Dania had used as a portkey. I unrolled it and checked the date, _August 23__rd__, 1994, _and saw that it was today's date. Taking a look at the front page news, a large smile bloomed on my lips at the announcement of the Quidditch World Cup. Being an avid lover of quidditch, I immediately decided that I wanted to go, but trying to get a decent ticket this late would be nearly impossible.

"I suppose Aunt Ava will have a way to get a great ticket though, she has a way of making things happen." I muttered to myself as I entered through the double glass doors into the goblin bank. Heading straight for the goblin I was most familiar way, I plastered a bright cheery smile on my face and stop at the long counter in front of him. "Why, hello Gnarlkin, how's my favorite goblin on this beautiful Saturday afternoon?" I chirped.

Gnarlkin rolled his eyes and eyed me balefully, though perhaps less so than he would have eyed anyone else. "Lady Snow, why do you persist in greeting me in such a disturbing way every time you grace this establishment with your presence?" he asked dryly.

My grin widened. "Because I know it annoys you, of course." I laughed. "But today, I have serious business." At that, Gnarlkin straightened up from behind the counter and peered at me expectantly.

"What can Gringotts help you with today, Lady Snow?" he asked.

"Well, for one, I am buying one of those houses in that new community a little ways down Diagon Alley, so I will need to withdraw a large amount of money." I started.

Gnarlkin nodded. "That can be done immediately, and once you sign the deed, a copy shall be sent here to me, and I shall place it in your personal vault for safe keeping."

"Wonderful. Now, my second order of business, is that I need to hire a team of goblins to ward said house." I continued. "Nothing too extravagant, just the usual… anti-portkey, anti-apparation, defensive and offensive security measures, protection against weather and pests, etc."

As I spoke, Gnarlkin scrawled it all down on a parchment, adding several things I had left out or he would recommend, when he was satisfied, he allowed me to go over the list and I approved. "How soon can they do it, Gnarlkin?"

"Seeing as you are no ordinary client, Miss Snow, I can have our best team sent out as soon as the signed papers arrive, and they can be done by tonight." He answered promptly.

"Perfect, so I can move in tomorrow morning." I said, not even startled as a sack of galleons with my family's crest on it appeared on the counter beside Gnarlkin. With his nod, I grabbed the featherweight-charmed bag, bid Gnarlkin a farewell and left the bank. After making my way back to the golden gates of the community, I saw that Dania stood waiting for me. Within five minutes, the papers were signed, the money was handed over, and I was the proud owner of a new home.

"The second you signed those papers, Miss Snow," Dania said happily, "you were keyed into the wards surrounding this place. All you have to do to get inside, is tap the gate with your wand, alright?" I nodded, we said goodbye, and went our separate ways. A few minutes later, I let the team of ward goblins into the community and led them to my house. After being reassured, I reversed the portkey's destination, and returned home.

"Prim!" I called as I arrived and immediately headed for the large, marble staircase.

"Yes, Mistress Isavéla?" Prim asked, popping in beside me.

"We have a new home." I said with a small smile.

"When is we leaving?" Prim asked excitedly.

"Tomorrow morning, so can you bring me some boxes that I can pack my stuff into? I'm buying new furniture and such for the new house, so don't worry about packing any of that." I instructed.

"It shall be done, Mistress Isavéla."

I spent the rest of the afternoon packing up almost everything in my room, the muggle way, and by the time dinnertime rolled around, my room was filled with cardboard boxes piled high in columns. Prim and I ate dinner together on the terrace, toasting to our last night in the big, lonely manor. I slept nightmare-free that night, for the first time in months.

{Page Break}

The next morning, I awoke to the peaceful silence that I had become accustomed to in the manor, and smiled upon thinking about the previous day. After preparing for the day and finishing breakfast, I instructed Prim to start transferring my boxes over to the new house while I made a detour. Throwing floo powder into the roaring fireplace, I waited until the fire turned green before stepping in and yelling, "Aunt Ava's Place!"

As I was spat from the fireplace several minutes later, I rolled forward and came up on my feet. As I brushed soot from my clothes, I heard a child's giggle and clapping, and looked around my aunt's bright living room. My eyes immediately landed on her baby girl, my cousin, Amalia and my face lit up. "Hello Lia," I cooed lovingly as I scooped her out of her high chair and held her in my arms. She was still small, barely a years' old yet, but she was beautiful. She had my mom's side of the family's trait for curly black hair, but her eyes were a bright hazel, and her skin was like coffee with a large amount of cream. As I twirled my giggling cousin around the living room, my mother's twin sister, her mother, hurried into the room and smiled at the sight of us.

"What a pleasant surprise Izzy," she said, coming over to hug me. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming over? I would've made you breakfast."

I laughed easily. "Don't worry about it Aunt Ava, you know Prim doesn't let me leave the house without eating first."

"That crazy elf," Aunt Ava muttered affectionately. "Please, sit down, love. I haven't seen you in weeks. How have you been?"

"I've been as good as one can expect," I said, we shared a sad smile, "but I actually wanted to tell you that I brought a house in that new community they created in Diagon Alley. Oh, it's beautiful Aunt Ava, and there's plenty of room for when you and Lia visit."

We talked a little bit about the house and my plans for the upcoming school year, when Lia began chewing on my hair. Laughing, I handed her back to her mother and grinned. "Has she shown any signs of magic, yet?" I asked.

"She's a bit young, don't you think?" Aunt Ava teased, bouncing Amalia on her knee.

"But mum said you two were doing accidental magic when you were Lia's age." I countered. Aunt Ava grinned.

"Well, everyone's different honey, but with genes as strong as ours, she's bound to be a powerful witch." She stated.

"Of course," I agreed. "Now Aunt Ava, there's two things I need to ask of you."

"Anything Izzy, what is it?"

"Well for one, I'd really be eternally grateful if you could use your connections to get me a decent ticket for the World Cup. I know it's in two days, but I've been a bit out of touch with the outside world for a while." I pleaded.

Aunt Ava smiled. "I swear you get your love of Quidditch from your father, your mum hated it. But I'll see what I can do. What else did you need?"

"I was wondering if you and Lia could come with me to go shopping for house things?" I requested.

"Now that," Aunt Ava said, "we can do for sure."

Several hours and dozens and dozens of stores later, my new house was fully furnished and decorated. It had taken quite a bit of money and magic, but by ten that night, I was officially moved in. Aunt Ava and Amalia stayed with me that night, and I fell asleep in my new bed, in my new home. My aunt and her baby left the next morning after breakfast, and I spent the rest of the day relaxing and taking a couple of laps around my new pool. I went out shopping for a while, and when I returned, a note was waiting on my pillow along with a ticket.

_Have fun at the World Cup, Izzy. We love you._

_Aunt A. & Amalia_

I spent the next hour packing a backpack for the World Cup and making sure my magical tent was prepared, and I retired to bed early that night for my early wake up the next day. The next morning, I was up and ready before the sun. I had a quick breakfast, and I couldn't sit still with my bubbling excitement, and so I bid Prim goodbye and portkeyed away. Expecting an easy landing, I yelped as I landed on what seemed to be two boys and fell on top of them.

"Bloody hell!" One of the boys and I shouted simultaneously.

After a lot of squirming and struggling, I finally disentangled myself from the two and rolled to my feet, my clothes ruffled and my hair all over my face. As the two got to their feet, I fixed my hair, and brushed off my small jean shorts and v-neck t-shirt. I fixed my backpack on my back, well aware that all eyes were on me. Looking up, I saw that I had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of us, the group I had arrived behind, was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed, rather poorly, as Muggles: the man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Izzy?" a familiar voice asked.

Turning around, I couldn't stop myself from darting forward and tackling the taller boy around the middle in a tight hug. "Cedric!" I squealed happily.

"Isavéla Snow, why, I haven't seen you in years!" Mr. Diggory exclaimed, placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder. I gave him a quick hug and smiled at them apologetically.

"I've been in isolation for a while but I couldn't miss the World Cup!" I said excitedly. "Where's your mum?"

Mr. Diggory waved his hand. "Oh, you know how she thinks about Quidditch." He said, shaking his hand.

"Ricky, guess what?" I teased; using the name I had once called him when we were kids. He flushed as the many red-haired boys and one black-haired boy snickered softly.

"What, Izzy?" Cedric said, fondly rolling his eyes.

"I'm going to Hogwarts this year!" I revealed. A smile immediately bloomed on his face, warming my chest.

"Really? Oh this is gonna be great! What house—"

But Cedric's question was cut off as the obvious father of the red-haired boys stopped talking to the kilted wizard and looked at us. He smiled down at me and held out a hand. "And who is this beautiful young lady, Amos?" he asked kindly.

I smiled at the man and shook his hand. "Isavéla Snow, sir," I said respectfully, my name rolling off my tongue with a slight accent, "An old friend of Cedric's."

"Arthur Weasley, my dear. A pleasure to meet you." He said, but there was something in his eyes, not exactly pity, but a sort of vague sadness that let me know he'd known, or at least heard of my family. I appreciated the fact that he didn't mention it, as most people did.

"Well Miss Snow," he began, but I shook my head.

"I prefer Izzy, sir." I said.

"Well _Izzy_," he corrected with a kind smile, "these are my boys: Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Harry." I shook each boy's hand as they were introduced. Bill, the oldest one, and Charlie, the more muscular one, both kissed the back of my hand, as did Percy. The twin boys, Ron, and Harry all simply shook it and said, "Nice to meet you." As I shook the last boy's hand, Harry's, of course I recognized him as the famous Harry Potter, but I didn't react beyond a smile, which he returned. "And my daughter, Ginny, and their friend Hermione." I shook the girls' hands as well.

"Amos," Mr. Weasley said, "we're a quarter of a mile's walk this way, first field. You're second field, ask for Mr. Payne."

As the two men talked, I approached the kilted man. "Snow, sir." I said.

He raised an eyebrow and consulted his parchment. "Ah Miss Snow, you are with the Weasley's, first field."

"Mr. Weasley?" I called, walking back over to the large group.

"Yes, Miss…Izzy?" he said, catching himself.

"I'm in the first field as well, do you mind if I walk with you lot?" I asked politely.

"Of course not, come on dear!" he said jovially, beckoning everyone to follow him.

As we set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist, the other teenagers started talking to me. "So, where are you from, Isavéla?" The girl with dark honey colored bushy hair asked, Hermione, I think her name was. She said my name slowly, trying to get the accent right. "That doesn't sound like a British name."

"It's not. My family's from Italy, but I was born and raised here." I answered. Hermione's eyes sparkled with interest.

"Do you speak Italian?" she asked.

"Fluently."

"Izzy," Cedric said, throwing his arm around my shoulder, and I grinned up at him, "What house do you think you'll be in at Hogwarts?"

I shrugged. "I'm honestly not sure. I suppose I'll just let the Hat do its job then, right?"

"What year are you going in at?" Ginny asked.

"I'll be a fourth year, what about you all?" I asked.

Ginny groaned. "I'm still the youngest here. I'll be a third year."

"Ron, Harry, and I will all be fourth years as well." Hermione said.

"We're going to be sixth years." Fred and George said together. I grinned.

"And the three of us have already graduated." Bill said for him, Charlie, and Percy.

"Really? What do you guys do?" I prompted.

"I'm a curse breaker at Gringotts," Bill said proudly.

"And I work with dragons in Romania," Charlie added.

"Wow," I said, a little embarrassed at the wonder in my voice. "Both of those jobs sound so cool!"

After about twenty more minutes of answering and asking questions, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, I could make out the shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. "I'll come find you later, Ricky, okay?" I said hugging Cedric. "And it was nice seeing you again, Mr. Diggory!"

"You too, dear."

"Bye Izzy," Cedric said, tugging one of my curls before we separated, and the others and I approached the cottage door.


	2. Never Trust A Wolf

_Previous Chapter: _

"_Bye Izzy," Cedric said, tugging one of my curls before we separated, and the others and I approached the cottage door._

**Chapter Two: Never Trust A Wolf**

"_**No man dies for what he knows to be true. Men die for what they want to be true, for what some terror in their hearts tells them is not true."**_

A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents, and he was obviously the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard our footsteps, he turned his head to look at us.

"Morning!" Mr. Weasley said brightly.

"Morning," the man said.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," Mr. Roberts said. "And who're you?"

"Weasley — two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," Mr. Roberts said, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," Mr. Weasley said.

"You'll be paying now, then?" Mr. Roberts said. As Mr. Weasley pulled Harry a little ways away from us, I approached Mr. Roberts.

"Err…Snow, one tent, booked yesterday?"

"Yes, you're right beside this lot," he said, gesturing to the Weasleys. "Just the one night?"

"Yes sir." I said. I pulled my wallet out of my shorts pocket, and handed him the correct amount.

"You foreign?" Mr. Roberts asked as Mr. Weasley returned with his money.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," Mr. Roberts explained, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up..."

"Is that right?" Mr. Weasley said, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over, loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners, weirdoes, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously.

"It's like some sort of...I dunno...like some sort of rally," Mr. Roberts continued. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

I sighed. "Three…two…one…"

Right on time, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliviate!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

Instantly, Mr. Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. He had the obvious symptoms of someone who had just had his memory modified. My mum having been a Head Healer at St. Mungo's, I was well acquainted with the symptoms of most things.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said placidly to Mr. Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," Mr. Weasley said.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied us toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to Mr. Weasley, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. He needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," Ginny said, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," Mr. Weasley said, smiling, and leading us through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit...well...lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

We trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell pulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that it was no surprise as to why Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," Mr. Weasley said, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

We had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY, a few feet away was another that read _Snow_.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" Mr. Weasley said happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult...Muggles do it all the time...Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

The clueless expression on Harry's face let me know he'd probably never been camping a day in his life. With much amusement, I moved to my tent plot and put the rolled up tent on the ground. Taking a step back, I removed my wand from its holster, and took a deep breath. "_Erecto!"_ I cast quickly. Immediately my tent, which was plain black on the outside, erected itself within second.

"Izzy, you can't do magic outside of school!" Hermione gasped.

I looked over my shoulder at the flabbergasted Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione, and shrugged. "Special circumstances," I said simply. Hermione opened her mouth, but Mr. Weasley nudged her and shook his head. I headed inside my tent, which was more like my new house than I realized, and dropped my backpack. I was just relaxing on my bed when I heard Harry calling my name.

"Err…Izzy…Isavéla…Hermione, Ron, and I are going to get some water, you want to come with?" he asked uncertainly. With a soft sigh, I sat up, recognizing that while I was here, I might as take the opportunity to make some new friends. I walked back to the entrance of the tent, where I saw Harry's amazed face sticking through the flap.

"Yes, I'd love to." I said. He pulled back, and held out a hand, which I took, and pulled me out. I thanked him, noticing that his hand lingered longer than it should have on mine, before he let go, and so Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I set off across the campsite with a kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, we could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. We made our way slowly through the rows, staring around at everything in sight. Most people rarely gave thought to witches and wizards in other countries, and so it was times like this that reminded us that our hidden world, the wizarding world, was much bigger than we really knew.

Our fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children. It was always amusing to watch magical children at play, especially when they caused odd and amusing things to happen with their random bursts of accidental magic. A tiny boy, no older than two, was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was slowly swelling to the size of whole salami. As we drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't – touch – Daddy's – wand – yecchh!"

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. My nose wrinkled as slug guts squirted from one end, and listened as her scolding carried after us on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells, "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way farther on, we saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past us, he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose -"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE. I caught snatches of conversation in strange languages, some I understood, some I didn't, from the inside of tents they passed, and even in the languages I couldn't understand, the tone of every single voice was excited.

As we walked, I studied the other three teenagers that I had met only a while ago. While Ron seemed mostly interested in the dozens and dozens of tents and people we passed, Harry's eyes wandered to Hermione's right side, where I stood. He'd glance my way, before forcing himself to look away. And while Hermione bit her lip, her eyes seemed to drift my way as well. "Hermione, it looks like you're bursting to say something," I said suddenly, all four of us stopped walking. "If you have a question, ask it."

She seemed startled at being put on the spot so abruptly, but she came to a decision and blew out a deep breath. "Well…I was – err – wondering, why it is that you can do magic outside of school without getting in trouble?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that you're only question?"

She blushed. "Umm, no…"

I grinned with no trace of humor. "My parents were…murdered," Ron and Hermione gaped while Harry's head snapped up, "when I was five, and because of the…nature of their deaths, the Ministry gave me special immunity to the underage magic law for," and I used air quotes, "special circumstances, meaning in case the bastards that did it decide to come find me and finish the job."

The three of them all stared at me, and though Hermione hid her horror better than Ron did, it was the understanding and pain in Harry's eyes that made me turn away and start walking again, the three of them following quickly after me. "Any more questions?" I prompted.

"Err – not that it really matters, but," Hermione paused, "are you a pureblood?"

"No," I said simply. "Half-Blood, my mother was a muggleborn, but her side of the family has had the occasional witch or wizards, and so my grandparents were rather accepting. On the other hand, my father was a pureblood, Head to a well-respected and influential family line, or at least, he was, until he died. Now I'm, though a Half-Blood, the Head and Lady of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Snow." It was hard to hide the slight sneer on my face.

"Oh!" Hermione's face lit up with awe. "I've read about your family in quite a few history books! Is it true that your ancestor helped fund not only Hogwarts, but also the original Ministry building and Azkaban?"

"Yes." I said, barely hiding a grimace.

"And what's wrong with that?" Ron asked. "Your family's got more money and loads more standing than mine."

I sighed. "It's a lot of pressure. I have to project a specific image, know certain things, be able to carry my family name and not bring shame to it. I'm young but as soon as I turn seventeen, I'll have to take up my seat on the Wizengamot. Sure, I'd never have to work a day in my life if I don't want to but I want more than to just sit on my ass and spend money all day. I just… I want more out of life." I said quietly.

"Have you ever lived in the muggle world?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Yes, last year actually. I went to a muggle school, but I hired magical tutors to come five times a week." I answered easily, letting the tense moment pass.

"Wow, double school," Hermione said in amazement. "How'd you handle magical and muggle work?"

I shrugged. "I just had to study a bit harder, be more organized so as not to get mixed up. I work out a lot though, sort of a stress-reliever, but I was a cheerleader and did gymnastics at my muggle school, so it wasn't all work and no fun."

"But Hogwarts will be your first real magical school, then?" Harry continued.

"Yeah…I wanted the whole school experience, and do you know about that new community they've built in Diagon Alley?" I asked. While Ron and Hermione nodded, Harry shook his head. "Well, I've bought a house there and moved in about two days ago, so as to be more in touch with the world."

"That's amazing." Hermione commented. "But who do you – err – live with? If you don't mind my asking…"

"I live with my house-elf Prim, but she's more like family than a servant. It's been just the two of us for the past nine years, but I visit my mum's twin sister every once in a while, she's got a new baby as well. We're a little family, but it's better than nothing." I said, trying to push down the emotion in my voice.

"Err – is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" Ron said.

My lip twitched. "We must be where all the Ireland supporters are set up."

We had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their tent flaps open. Then, from behind us, I heard the trio's names being called.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

We turned around and I took in the sandy-haired, blue-eyed boy who looked to be our age. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and a tall black boy. As we approached the three, the two boys eyed me rather obviously.

"Who's this?" Seamus asked, holding out a hand.

"Izzy Snow, and you are?" I countered, shaking it.

"Seamus Finnigan, fourth year Gryffindor, and this is me mum," he said, and I greeted the woman, "and me best mate, Dean Thomas, same year, same house."

After Dean and I had shook hands, Seamus grinned. "Like the decorations? The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" Mrs. Finnigan said. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing the four of us beadily. When we had assured her that we were indeed supporting Ireland, we set off again, though, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents." Hermione said.

"Let's go and have a look," Harry said, pointing to a large patch of tents up field, where the Bulgarian flag – white, green, and red – was fluttering in the breeze. The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," Ron said quietly.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Viktor Krum!" I squealed suddenly, excitement utterly destroying my calm exterior. "He's the Bulgarian Seeker, and he's bloody brilliant at it! And he's really young too, one of the youngest in the league! He's a bloody genius, you wait until tonight Hermione, you'll see!"

Ron, Harry, and Hermione all stared at me, smiles blooming on their faces as I unknowingly burst out of my shell.

"Sorry," I said, feeling my face heat up slightly, "I get just a tad bit excited when it comes to Quidditch. It's like…a rush, watching it, playing it…"

"I know what you mean!" Ron and Harry said in unison.

Hermione groaned playfully and rolled her eyes. "Oh great, another Quidditch fanatic."

I threw my arm around her shoulder. "Oh don't worry Hermione, we can still paint each other's nails and talk about _boys_." We paused, looked at the expression on Ron and Harry's face, and burst into laughter.

As we calmed down, the boys shook their heads and muttered, "Girls."

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long, flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation. At the sight of the old man, Hermione and I bit our lips to hold in our sudden urge to laugh.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that; the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious –"'

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," the old wizard said stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers. Now Hermione and I were leaning on each other, our bodies shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

"I'm not putting them on," old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Hermione and I were overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at that point that we had to duck out the queue until we could calm ourselves. Taking pity on the trio under the weight of the water, I tapped the kettle and saucepans, casting a featherweight charm on them, and we made our way back through the campsite. Here and there, we were stopped by other Hogwarts students with their families. Along the way, I was introduced to quite a few people I would be going to school with the upcoming term. Oliver Wood, who was apparently the old captain of the Gryffindor House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, had dragged Harry over to his parents' tent, and told him excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team. Next, I met Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and little farther on, the trio pointed out Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She had waved and smiled at Harry, who blushed and nodded back at her, then pointed out a large group of teenagers.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he said. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

"'Spect they go to some foreign school," Ron said. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a pen-friend at a school in Brazil...this was years and years ago...and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His pen-friend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

"You've been ages," George said when we finally got back to our tents.

"Met a few people," Ron shrugged, setting the water down. "You've not got the fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life. I couldn't stop a small smile from emerging as I watched the man, fascinated by something so common in the muggle world.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last, they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. I had resisted the urge to use magic to speed it up, but respected Mr. Weasley's desire to do things the muggle way. There was plenty to watch, however. Our tents seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary, mainly for Harry's and Hermione's benefit; his own children and I knew too much about the Ministry to be greatly interested. As the large group interacted, I slipped unnoticed, back into my tent and headed straight for the kitchen.

Hopping up onto one of the granite-topped counters, I opened one of the many overhead cupboards and pulled out a box of chocolate-chip granola bars. Using my teeth to rip open one, I casually swung my legs back and forth as I thought about my day so far. I certainly hadn't expected to immediately make friends or be included as quickly as I had. The best part, however, had been seeing Cedric again after all these years. He'd grown up, he was taller, broader, and he had a hint of facial hair coming in. He was rather handsome indeed, but there was only sisterly love there.

As my thoughts turned to the others I had met that morning, one specific, green-eyed face kept swimming into my mind's eye. Harry was certainly not what I would've expected from the Boy-Who-Lived, but I knew better than most to not judge upon rumors and stories. He was a bit shorter and thinner than I imagined, however, and something didn't smell right around him. He had a sort of stifled air about him, but it was magical in its nature. I must've gotten caught up in my thoughts because about an hour later, I smelled Hermione's clean scent coming from the direction of the tent flap.

"Come in, Hermione!" I called from the kitchen.

"Where are you?" she said, as I heard her crawling into the tent.

"Kitchen," I said, "follow my voice."

As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she paused and looked around, her amazement as obvious as Harry's had been. "Wow, this place is amazing."

I shrugged. "Thanks. It's not as extravagant as the Malfoys' tent, but it's comfortable. So, was there something you needed, Hermione?"

Hermione seemed to shake herself out of her awe. "Oh – err – Mr. Weasley was calling you for breakfast, but I suppose you couldn't hear him from back here."

"It's the tent," I said, "It muffles noise from outside. Notice how you can't hear the bustle in here."

Cocking her head to the side, Hermione nodded. "You're right, also amazing. Anyways, are you coming out for food?"

"I suppose it'd only be polite," I paused, and bit my bottom lip, "can I ask you something, Hermione?"

Perhaps sensing the change in my tone, Hermione sat in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and nodded seriously.

"Has…has Harry always been that…" I trailed off, searching for the least offensive way to put it.

"Short and skinny?" Hermione supplied bluntly. I nodded, and she sighed. "He's grown a lot since first year, if you can believe it, but yeah, he's always been one of the shorter boys in our year. I –" she stopped herself.

"What is it, Hermione?"

She looked down at her hands in her lap. "It's just…I don't know if I should be telling you this."

I gave her a reassuring smile. "You can trust me Hermione," I said, even as I unwillingly thought, '_Never trust a wolf.'_

"I…I think it has something to do with his upbringing." She said finally. "He was _raised_," here her lip curled slightly, "by his mother's sister and her husband. They're horrid people, the worst sort."

I raised an eyebrow, careful to keep my face clear of emotion. "Are you saying…?"

Hermione blew out a deep breath, and I could tell that she'd been worrying over this for a long time, perhaps years. "I wouldn't be surprised, Izzy. But we should really be getting back out there."

I nodded and hopped down from the counter as Hermione stood up. I squeezed her shoulder gently. "Don't worry Hermione, I know how to help."

Before we left my tent, we both plastered easy smiles on our faces and tried to rid ourselves of the tension. I was greeted with smiles all around and we sat in a circle around the fire as Mr. Weasley and Bill helped pass around plates of food. We were halfway through our plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward us. "Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person I had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed, probably broken by a stray Bludger, but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy. I forced down the bile in my throat as my lip curled up in a slight sneer that I had to clear away.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements…not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air. Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched.

"Ah – yes," Mr. Weasley said, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry – and this Fred – no, George, sorry – that's Fred – Bill, Charlie, Ron – my daughter Ginny, and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and –"

"Isavéla Snow!" Ludo exclaimed happily, that strange light in his eye sparkling as it did every time the man laid eyes on me. It was rather repulsive, and I felt my skin crawl.

I gave an almost sarcastic grin as the man held out his hand. "What a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Bagman." I said, repressing a shudder as he kissed the back of my hand.

"Oh dear, you must stop with this 'Mr. Bagman' business, please, call me Ludo!" he said, his excitement seemed to have doubled. "Harry Potter and Isavéla Snow, all in the same day, what a delight indeed. You know your parents and I were good friends, sweetheart."

My grin became cold, as did the air around us, as I reflected on the fact that both of my parents hated Ludo Bagman with a passion, and every time he called me sweetheart, my inner wolf snarled. "Of course, _Ludo._"

As though sensing the danger, Mr. Weasley continued quickly. "Everyone, this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets—"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years – and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh…go on then," Mr. Weasley said. "Let's see…a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well...any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," Mr. Weasley said. "Molly wouldn't like –"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," Fred said as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins – but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and I all hid our grins behind our hands.

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said under his breath, "I don't want you betting...That's all your savings...Your mother –"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" Ludo boomed, rattling pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance…I'll give you excellent odds on that one…We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we…"

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names. I liked Mr. Weasley well enough, he seemed like a decent sort of man, but he was obviously not the authority in his household, and I assumed it was his wife. The poor man let Ludo and his own children run over him.

"Cheers," George said, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" Percy said, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…"

"Anyone can speak Troll," Fred countered dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside us all.

"Not a dicky bird," Bagman said comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha...memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," Bagman said, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh – talk of the devil! Barty!"

A familiar wizard had just Apparated at our fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. He looked the same as he always did, perhaps minus the usual robes he wore over his suit. Though the man was rather stiff, I liked him much more than I did Ludo.

Standing up, I executed a stunningly graceful curtsey to Mr. Crouch. "Mr. Crouch, it's a pleasure to see you again." I said, offering my hand.

"Ah, Miss Snow," he said, kissing the back of my hand as he bowed, true to pureblood tradition. "How have you been? Studying for your induction into the Wizengamot, I hope?"

I grinned wryly. Of course, he would be concerned with how prepared I was. "Yes sir, as much as possible."

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," Ludo said brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," Mr. Crouch said, and there was suddenly a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh, is that what they're after? Bagman said. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" Percy said breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes – thank you, Weatherby."

Fred and George choked into their own cups, I snorted out my last bite of eggs, while Ron, Harry, and Hermione furiously tried to hide their fierce giggles.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," Mr. Crouch said, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they've never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" Bagman said.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," Mr. Crouch said. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve – but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" Bagman said breezily.

"Fairly," Mr. Crouch said dryly. "Organizing portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" Mr. Weasley.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun…Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details—"

"Oh details!" Bagman said, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts –"

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," Mr. Crouch said sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his untouched tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me – I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" Fred said at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Mr. Weasley said, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," Percy said stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up, Weatherby," Fred said, and the rest of us fell into laughter again.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretense disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere. However, as the day grew darker, I became more and more withdrawn and tense. I felt it stirring in my blood, the same thing every single night. My inner wolf, as I called it, had begun pacing restlessly, wanting to get out, to stretch her limbs and flex her immense power. Lycans were at their utmost powerful during a full moon, even though we didn't transform forcefully as werewolves did, that was true, but we were powerful and dangerous at night period, the second the sun went down and the moon was high in the night sky. And so as the sky became darker and darker, I tried to be more reserved but the excited atmosphere and my new friends wouldn't let me.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes – green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria – which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told Harry as they, Hermione, and I strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

"Wow, look at these!" Harry said, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," the sales-wizard said eagerly. "You can replay action...slow everything down...and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain – Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," Ron said, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs," Harry and I said firmly in unison. The four of us looked at each other, particularly Harry and I, before grinning.

"Alright, how about I get me and Ron's, and you get yours and Mione's?" Harry suggested.

"No – don't bother," Ron said, going red. He was obviously touchy about money, seeing as it was obvious and common knowledge about how poor the Weasleys were.

"No, you don't bother trying to stop me," Harry said as he paid for two pairs, thrusting one pair into Ron's hands, "It's already been done."

I smiled and handed Hermione her pair, waving away her thanks. "Don't worry about it, Mione." I said, casually using the nickname Harry had said a minute ago. I glanced at the girl in the corner of my eye to see if she noticed, but she only paused for a split second before smiling even more brightly. Remembering that Fred and George had blown all of their savings on that bet with Ludo Bagman, I hurried back to the salesman and bought the twins a few things, before we went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George appeared despondent until I thrust the trinkets and such into their arms and told them not to say a word about it.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. Large smiles bloomed on all of our faces as Mr. Weasley said, "It's time!" looking as excited as the rest of us. "Come on, let's go!"


	3. Quidditch World Cup

_Previous Chapter:_

_And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field. Large smiles bloomed on all of our faces as Mr. Weasley said, "It's time!" looking as excited as the rest of us. "Come on, let's go!"_

**Chapter Three: Quidditch World Cup**

"_**Tranquil pleasures last the longest; we are not fitted to bear the burden of great joys."**_

Purchases in hand, Mr. Weasley in the lead, we all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. My amber eyes darted around, pausing on dark shapes that crept along just beyond the light of the lanterns. We could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around us, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious, even my inner wolf seemed to have been swept up by it as she pranced around my core, causing my legs to itch to do the same. Looking on my right, I saw that Harry couldn't stop grinning, and when our eyes met, we both laughed. He playfully tried to shove my shoulder and I automatically grabbed his wrist, the contact instantly sending a jolt through my arm. Brushing it off with more laughter, I jokingly slipped my arm around Harry's and we walked linked together.

We walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last, we emerged on the other side and found ourselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Mr. Weasley said, spotting the awestruck look on Harry's face. "Ministry task force of five-hundred has been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again…bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" the Ministry witch said at the entrance when she checked our tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. We clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to our left and right. Our party kept climbing, and at last we reached the top of the staircase and found ourselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and I couldn't resist looking upon the scene with a bit of awe as well.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at our eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, I saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

Tearing my eyes away from the signs, I looked over my shoulder to see who would be sitting behind us. So far it was empty, except for a tiny house-elf sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind us. The house-elf, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and had its face hidden in its hands. Judging from the shaking of its body, I assumed that it was afraid of heights or large crowds.

"Dobby?" Harry said incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. "Did sir just call me Dobby?" the elf squeaked curiously from between its fingers. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Even Mr. Weasley looked around, interest on his face.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know Draco's house-elf?" I asked.

All of them stared at me, mouths wide open.

"_Draco?_" Ron asked, disgustedly. "Draco _Malfoy_?"

"Yes…?" I said slowly. "You lot know him?"

"Yes, he's in our year at Hogwarts." Hermione said calmly, shooting Ron a hard look. "How do you know him, Izzy?"

"Oh," I said, waving my hand as if to dispel to tense air that had suddenly arrived, "we played together when we were kids. You know, play dates and such." I shrugged.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and I was pinned under the almost catatonic gaping stares from the others, until finally, the house-elf broke the silence.

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" she squeaked. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir – and you, sir –" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am." Harry said, and I was sure I wasn't the only person to hear the reluctance or perhaps, disappointment in his voice, as if he wished his answer could be different.

"But Dobby talked of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" Harry said. "How's freedom suiting him?

"Freedom?" I asked.

Harry flushed. "Err – yeah, it's a long story."

"Ah, sir," Winky said, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" Harry said, obviously taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," Winky said sadly, "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" Harry said blankly. "Well – why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinx, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," Harry said.

I snorted. "Especially with the way Mr. Malfoy treated him…" I muttered, low enough so that only Harry, who was directly beside me, could hear.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," Winky said firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" – she glances toward the edge of the box and gulped – "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Master – master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," Winky said, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry and I turned back to the others. "She's pretty weird, eh?" Ron muttered.

"Dobby was weirder," Harry and I said fervently in unison.

"Ah yes," Harry said, scratching his ear, "the fact that you're…cordial with Malfoy is weird, as well."

"Why is that weird? He's not so bad." I said, shrugging.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry gaped at me, disbelieving.

"_Malfoy_?" Ron repeated. "The same Malfoy that's been taunting us every year since first?"

"The same Malfoy that calls me…Mudblood, every chance he gets?" Hermione said, a surprising amount of anger in her cinnamon eyes.

"The same Malfoy that's done everything in his power to ruin my Hogwarts experience? Oh no," Harry said sarcastically, shaking his head, "No, he's not so bad at all."

"Well…" I shrugged my shoulder again. "He was a snob for sure when we were kids, but he wasn't that horrid. Product of his environment, you know? He was certainly nothing like his father, much more like his mother, quiet, reserved, calculating. I wonder what happened…"

Shaking his head in disbelief, Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium. "Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again…and again…and again…"

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet covered, tasseled program.

"_A display from the team mascots will precede the match," _she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," Mr. Weasley said. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around us over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards, some I recognized vaguely, but most I didn't. Percy jumped to his feet so often…it was rather sad. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry and I, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like old friends. I curtsied before him and allowed him to kiss my hand, before he shook Harry's hand in a fatherly fashion, asked how we were, and introduced us to the wizards on either side of him.

"Isavéla Snow, Redd Snow's daughter, and Harry Potter, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "Harry Potter...oh come on now, you know who he is...the boy who survived You-Know-Who...you do know who he is –"

As the Bulgarian wizard kissed my hand, his eyes rested on my family ring with our crest on it, and his skin seemed to pale slightly. He looked up from his bow into my amber eyes, and they glowed brightly for a split second before returning to normal. Obviously shaken, he suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," Fudge said wearily to Harry.

As Harry pretended to listen to Fudge blather, he leaned closer to me. "What the hell was that with your eyes? And why did the Bulgarian minister react like that to your ring?"

I froze, cursing myself at not realizing how observant Harry must be, considering who he was. "Err –" I could've thought of a convincing enough lie, but the second my eyes met Harry's bright emerald green ones, I wanted to tell him. "It's a long story Harry, wait until later on tonight, after the match, and I'll tell you." I whispered back. He nodded firmly.

"…ah, and here's Lucius!"

My head snapped up, just as Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby's former owners, people I hadn't spoken to personally in years: Lucius Malfoy; his son, Draco; and Mr. Malfoy's wife, Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy. They were all just as I remembered, except for Draco, who'd changed the most. He was no longer a small child, still round in the face, his stormy grey eyes bright and free. Now, he was taller, lean, his pale face was certainly older, as well as more angular and mature, and his white-blonde hair stood out more than ever. He was rather handsome now that we were older, but of course I would never admit that aloud. His mother looked the same, for the most part. She was blonde too; tall and slim. She'd been such a beautiful woman, but something was different about her now. Her porcelain face was ruined by the expression on her face, as if she'd smelled something repulsive.

"Ah, Fudge," Mr. Malfoy said, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge said, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk – Obalonsk – Mr. – well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else – you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Saying that it was a tense moment would've been quite the understatement. Mr. Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row, quickly being drawn to me. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the side, as if trying to remember where he'd met me before. And I couldn't blame him. The last time I'd seen the man up close had been when I was about five, right before my parents died.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly, even as his eyes remained on mine. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy certainly hadn't changed in nine years.

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How – how nice," Mr. Weasley said, with a very strained smile.

Fudge continued. "And I'm sure you know –"

"Isavéla Snow, Lord Malfoy," I introduced myself, curtseying particularly low and gracefully, and allowing my eyes to sparkle and glow the slightest bit. "A pleasure to see you again."

The split-second expression of shock and longing on Mr. Malfoy's face was priceless before he quickly covered it with his usual cold mask, and bowed low, taking my hand, and lightly brushing his lips over the back of it. "Miss Snow." He said smoothly, standing up straight. "You remember my wife…"

Mrs. Malfoy and I kissed cheeks and smiled at each other, and it was clearly the first time she'd smiled in a long time. I can only imagine what went on in Malfoy Manor these days, if my memories were anything to go by.

"And my son –"

"Draco," I said, my smile slightly larger. "It's been a long time since I last saw you. You certainly grew up."

His cold expression melted slightly as I curtsied to him, and allowed him to kiss my hand. "And you Izzy," he smirked slightly, "have blossomed beautifully."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Always the charmer, huh?"

"I have to be if I want to get a decent wife," Draco muttered, "or else I'll be stuck with Pansy."

We both paused and shuddered. It was then that I noticed that Draco was still holding my hand gently, as if it were made of glass or fine china. Still smiling, I lightly pulled it free and nodded. "Well, it was nice seeing you all, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy. Oh, Draco," I said mischievously, "I'll see you at Hogwarts."

His stormy grey eyes seemed to ignite with some inner light but he only nodded, and I sat down again, with Harry on my right, and Ron and Hermione on his right. Harry looked as though he had plenty to say to me, as did Ron, though Hermione simply looked as though she had a million questions to ask, but next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister – ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge said comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and cast "_Sonorus!_" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over us, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen…welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite us was wiped clear of its last message _(Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!)_ and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce…the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," Mr. Weasley said, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" he suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel –"

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. The veela had started to dance, and I watched the effect they had on the many men in the stadium, including Harry. As the veela danced faster and faster, Harry suddenly leapt to his feet and threw one leg over the wall of the box.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione said, panicked.

I darted forward and grabbed the back of Harry's shirt and yanked him back into his seat. The music stopped and Harry blinked. In front of us, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard. Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" Ron said, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione and looked at each other and rolled our eyes. "Boys." I muttered.

"Honestly!" she added.

"And now," Ludo roared, "kindly put your wands in the air…for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

"Excellent!" Ron yelled as the shamrock soared over us, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off our heads and seats. Peering up at the shamrock, I didn't need to use my Omnioculars to see that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" Mr. Weasley said over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

I didn't want to be the one to tell Ron that Leprechaun gold disappeared after a certain amount of time, and so I remained silent.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it would have been a blur if not for my enhanced vision, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand – Krum!"

I jumped out of my seat along with the rest of the Weasleys as Ron yelled, "That's him, that's him!" and I quickly focused my Omnioculars on him.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen, but I thought he was gorgeous. He was a quidditch legend, a prodigy…

My dreamy thoughts were interrupted by Bagman.

"And now, please greet – the Irish National Quidditch Team!" he yelled. "Presenting – Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; I spun a small dial on the side of my Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with quite the mustache, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. I spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open – four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and my eyes immediately darted the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch, following it for a split second before it zoomed out of sight. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF" Bagman screamed. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

I'd been to plenty of professional Quidditch matches before, but this…this was Quidditch as I had never seen it played before. The speed of the players was incredible – the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. I watched the Chasers closely, having my own secret aspirations of one day joining my favorite professional Quidditch team – the Holyhead Harpies.

I spun the slow dial on the right of my Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and I was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against my eardrums.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, I read as I watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it –

"TROY SCORES!" Bagman roared, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

I paused and looked up at the actual game, internally cursing myself for missing the current play. I saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily. I set my Omnioculars down, knowing I didn't truly need them to keep up with the game on my own.

I knew enough about Quidditch and Chasers in general, that being my gifted position, to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: "Troy – Mullet – Moran!  
And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" Mr. Weasley bellowed as the veela started to dance in celebration. Hermione and I watched on in amusement as the boys did as they were told, and Harry screwed up his eyes too. After a few seconds, the veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. I followed their line of sight, and frowned, not seeing the snitch…

"Ah shit…" I muttered, feeling bad for the Ireland Seeker.

"What! What?" Harry asked quickly.

"Krum's specialty," I said, "you'll see."

Nodding, Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was –

"They're going to crash!" Hermione screamed from Harry's other side.

She was half right – at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"Fool!" Mr. Weasley moaned. "Krum was feinting!"

"Amazing, isn't he?" I sighed happily to Harry, who grinned and shook his head.

"I have faith!" he yelled over the noise, gesturing to his leprechaun hat.

"It's time-out!" Bagman yelled, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course…"

I watched Harry hastily press the replay and play-by-play buttons on his Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to his eyes.

"The Wronski Feint, Harry," I supplied. "It's a seeker tactic, extremely dangerous if you don't have precise timing and control of your own broom." I tapped Harry's shoulder and pointed up into the air. "Look, he's circling above the pitch, looking around for the snitch without interference. I've heard that you play seeker at Hogwarts; you might want to take mental notes from Krum, Harry. He's brilliant."

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything we had seen so far. After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier.

As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly, I almost didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, confirmed that it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing – excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And – yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!"

The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadn't bothered, was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" she said, giggling.

Harry and I looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" Ludo Bagman said, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; and I grinned as I saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" Bagman said. "Now there's something we haven't seen before…Oh, this could turn nasty…

It did.

The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" Bagman shouted, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms…yes…there they go…and Troy takes the Quaffle."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything we had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" the Irish supporters roared as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.

"Foul! Ludo's magically magnified voice echoed. "Dimitrov skins Moran – deliberately flying to collide there – and it's got to be another penalty – yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. The horrified expression on Harry's face showed that he didn't think the veela were beautiful now, on the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders –

"And that, boys," Mr. Weasley said over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

It might have been my imagination, but as Mr. Weasley imparted that piece of wisdom, Harry's eyes lingered on me.

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. My eyes darted this way and that way, following the action as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet. I wanted to be that great a Chaser – no – I wanted to be better than that.

I wanted to be the best Chaser in history.

"Levski – Dimitrov – Moran – Troy – Mullet – Ivanova – Moran again – Moran – MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov –

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

"Ugh!" I growled.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and no one couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight. I wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though I was supporting Ireland, Krum was my favorite individual player. Ron obviously felt the same.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him –"

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and now I was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing…

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on...but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, I had no idea; there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again –

"They're going to crash!" Hermione shrieked.

"They're not!" Harry yelled.

"Krum's got it!" I shouted, jumping up and down on toes.

Both Harry and I were right – for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"The snitch, where's the snitch?" Charlie bellowed, along the row.

"Krum's got it!" I repeated, screaming. "He's got it – it's all over!"

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS – good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good...He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all..."

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess..."

It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but I could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. I couldn't help but grin at their celebration. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," a gloomy voice said from behind Harry. We looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" Fudge said, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," the Bulgarian minister said, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" Bagman roared.

Our eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, I saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers – Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; I could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in our direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. I noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground than he was in the air. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar. After he shook hands with Fudge, Krum's eyes darted around the box and I froze as they landed on me. He stared at me for a second, and I forced myself to give him a dazzling smile. When he looked away, I had to fight myself not to squeal or faint.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Harry said his hands were numb with clapping.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that…shame it couldn't have lasted longer…Ah yes…yes, I owe you…how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.


	4. The Dark Mark

_Previous Chapter:_

"_They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist that…shame it couldn't have lasted longer…Ah yes…yes, I owe you…how much?"_

_For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched._

**Chapter Four: The Dark Mark**

"_**We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."**_

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as we all made our way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," Fred said gleefully, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know. And I didn't know much about the twins, but judging from the look in their eyes, the money could only be used for chaos and/or mischief.

We were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to our campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward us on the night air as we retraced our steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over our heads, cackling and waving our lanterns. When we finally reached the tents, none of us felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around us, Mr. Weasley agreed that we could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. We were soon arguing enjoyably about the match.

"There's no one like Krum!" Ron said passionately, his eyes ablaze with excitement. "He's like a bird the way he rides the wind! He's more than an athlete! He's an artist."

The rest of us were already falling into fits of giggles, when Ginny grinned. "I think you're in love, Ron." She teased, causing us to burst into loud laughter, Ron's face reddening.

"Shut it!" he said, rolling his eyes.

George grabbed one of Ron's arms and swung it dramatically. "Viktor, I love you!" he sang teasingly.

Fred grabbed his other arm, and threw his head back. "Viktor, I doooo!"

Suddenly, the twins, Harry and I sang together. "When we're apart my heart beats only for you!" before falling into even more laughter, even Ron couldn't stop the grin from blooming on his lips.

We were still talking and laughing when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor, and so finally, Mr. Weasley called a halt to our little celebration and insisted that everyone go to bed. Hermione, Ginny, and I left the tent together and I waited until they were safely in their own tent before walking a little ways to my own. As I walked beneath the moon, I felt the power stirring in my blood, and it almost felt as though an electric current ran along my skin. From the other side of the campsite, I could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang, but then I heard a twig snap behind me, and spun around, my wand already in my hand and pointed steadily at…

Harry.

Blowing out a relieved breath, I reholstered my wand and waited as he walked toward me. "Dammit Harry, don't scare me like that."

He grinned and raised an eyebrow. "You don't seem the type to get scared easily."

A small smile played on my lips. "How observant," I drawled teasingly. I gestured for him to follow me and allowed him to hold open my tent flap while I crawled through, and I closed it after him. Leading him into the kitchen, I pulled out two bottles of butterbeer and tossed him one, which he caught with excellent reflexes. After we settled in the living room on either end of the same couch, I peered at him. "So what's on your mind, Harry?"

He'd been staring down at the bottle in his hand for a minute, but at my question, shook his head as if to clear away his thoughts. "Err – I've been wondering about what happened in the Top Box before the game?" he started slowly.

"Which bit?" I prompted.

"Err – let's start with the fact that your eyes, never mind the fact that they're damn near gold if not for that reddish tinge, but they were – they were –" Harry struggled for the word.

"Glowing?" I supplied. He simply nodded. "Well, that's somewhat difficult to explain, and it's extremely personal. What else have you got on your mind?"

Harry stared at me, before sighing. "Why'd the Bulgarian minister react so strongly to your ring, then?"

I held out my hand, and let Harry hold it while he peered at my signet ring. "It has my family crest on it, all pureblood families have a significant crest that means something, but you know that already right?"

Harry looked up at me, but didn't let go of my hand. "Uh no, I was raised in the muggle world by my mum's sister and her husband."

I cocked my head to the side questioningly at the bitterness in his voice, remembering Hermione's words to me earlier that day, but he shook his head and finally let go, gesturing for me to continue.

"Okay umm, well the crest – the black hooded skeleton with the scythe, or the Grim Reaper – has a halo over his head, it's somewhat ironic, but it symbolizes a sort of angel of death. And the blood red background, well, it symbolizes both military strength and blood." I said quietly. "My family…we're not exactly…" I sighed and blew out a deep breath.

"Don't worry about it Izzy," Harry said, "Just tell me what made the Bulgarian minister so shaken?"

"My father…" I started, "he was – he was an Unspeakable, not just any Unspeakable, but one of the best. He was also Head Hit Wizard, and though it's unknown outside our family and a select few Ministry officials, my father was the previous Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold's, personal assassin. He was –"

"An angel of death?" Harry supplied.

"Exactly." I said. "Criminals all over the wizarding world, the underground witches and wizards, Voldemort's –"

Harry gaped, and I snorted.

"No, I'm not afraid to say his name. Anyway, Voldemort's followers, the Death Eaters, they all knew of my father as the angel of death." I grinned humorlessly. "They had a sort of pun, because of his name, Redd Snow."

"And what was that?" Harry asked softly.

"_You'd better hope he doesn't find you in the winter_, one person would say. And when asked why, they'd say, _'because you'll be the red on the snow_." I snorted again and shook my head. "He had a habit of leaving our crest branded on all of his victims whenever he finished a job, if there was enough of the body left, but up until he died, our crest was different. I had it changed a few years ago, sort of a badge of honor and a symbol of his memory, but also as a warning."

"A warning?" Harry said, carefully watching my masked face.

"Yeah," I said simply. "Growing up the way I did, meant that anyone close to my father was in danger. Oh, there were plenty of murder attempts on me and my mum, but my father kept us well protected, and it's also why we lived so far out of touch from the general populace. I was supposed to begin my training on my sixth birthday but then…my parents were killed before that, so I had to train myself and hire tutors."

I paused and briefly considered telling Harry just what made my father such a successful assassin, our true heritage, but stopped myself. I had just met Harry, and no matter how at ease I felt with him, he was still a complete and total stranger, and I was reluctant to trust him just now.

"So the Bulgarian minister must've known of your father and his – err – profession, then eh?" Harry said, finally.

"Yeah, I suppose so." I must've been tired, because I began hearing a distant sort of screaming and many bangs, but surely the Irish weren't still celebrating this late. "He –"

"Izzy! Izzy!" Mr. Weasley's voice screamed from the tent flap. "Come on! Get up! Get up! We've got to get out of here! Where's Harry?"

I shot to my feet and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him back to the entrance. The urgency and fear on Mr. Weasley's face terrified me, but the relief upon seeing Harry was great. "What's wrong?" I asked quickly.

"No time to explain, come on! Everyone's waiting, we've got to go!" he said, holding out a hand. I let go of Harry and grasped Mr. Weasley's hand, allowing him to yank me up and out of the tent in one smooth move. He was quite stronger than I would've expected.

As I quickly laced up my black hiking boots and pulled my hair up into a messy bun, Mr. Weasley pulled Harry out of my tent. Finally outside, I could clearly tell something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed, as did the very atmosphere. The singing had stopped. I could more clearly hear the screams and the sound of people running. I could smell the fear in the air. I quickly waved my wand, summoning my backpack, and my tent instantly rolled up and shrank in the same second. Slinging it over my shoulder in a hurry, I stuffed the little roll in my jean short's pocket.

Mr. Weasley began pulling us back toward their tent, where Ron stood, looking around in a panic. The second his eyes landed on Harry, he slumped with relief. "What's going on?" I asked again.

Impatiently, Mr. Weasley gestured behind us.

"Dammit Harry, don't scare me like that!" Ron growled, unknowingly repeating my earlier words, and punching Harry's shoulder. He looked as though he was refraining from pulling the dark haired boy into a hug, his bright blue eyes wide and the sickly sweet smell of fear permeated from him.

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, I could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward us, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. I felt the magical buildup, the dark magic in the air, and heard loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells drifting toward us; then came a strong, familiar burst of green light, which illuminated the scene.

"No!" Harry and I gasped simultaneously.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. Looking at them, my inner wolf snarled and crouched low, already restless because I had been holding in the excess power due to the moon that was high above us. I grabbed Harry's hand in order to keep myself grounded, especially as the full moon was a few days ago. A deep pounding began in my ears, but there was no pain associated with it. My inner wolf was growling deeply and it was all I could do to hold down the sound that threatened to burst from my own mouth. I knew the reddish tinge to my eyes was starting to darken as my powers fought to emerge in the midst of danger, but I couldn't risk losing control. Not here, not now.

"Fucking Death Eaters…" I growled, causing everyone except a clueless Harry to pale.

Their heads were hooded and their faces were covered by silver masks. High above the group, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice I saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and I recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Ron muttered, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick…"

Hermione and Ginny came hurrying toward us, pulling coats over their nightdresses, with Mr. Weasley hurrying behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy emerged from the boys' tent, fully dressed, with their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot – get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," Fred said, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Keeping a hold of Harry's hand, I pulled him along with me, followed by Ron, Hermione, and George. We all looked back as we reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; we could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. My eyes cut through the dark, and I maneuvered Harry along with me, though we were still being pushed around by other panicked people.

Then we heard Ron yell with pain.

"Ron, are you okay?" I screamed, immediately thinking the worst. "Oh bloody hell, _lumos maximum!"_ I snapped. Instantly, the entire path and a circle around it lit up brilliantly from my wand, momentarily blinding us all.

"What happened?" Hermione said anxiously, looking around. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind us. I snapped around, wand at the ready, only to see Draco standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.

Ron told Draco to do something that he would probably never have dared say in front of his mother.

"Language, Weasley," Draco said, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like _her_ spotted, would you?"

"Draco, stop." I said, my voice filled with ice.

Peering around the blinding light of my wand, Draco finally saw me. "Izzy," he tutted, "I thought you had better taste in company."

I raised an eyebrow, and at the same moment, a blast like bomb sounded from the campsite, and flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around us. I gripped my wand more tightly.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Hermione said angrily.

"A half-blood scar head, blood traitors," he paused, and his stormy grey eyes glittered maliciously as he eyed Hermione.

"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare." I growled warningly, knowing exactly what he was about to say.

Draco shrugged. "They're after Muggles, d'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around…they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

Eyes on me, Draco talked to Harry. "Have it your own way, Potter. If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

Before anyone could blink, I had stepped forward and slapped Draco across his face with enough force that his head snapped to the side. In the glow of my wand, I saw the brilliant red print from my hand on his cheek. "How dare you, Draco? What the hell happened to you? You use to be a good kid, now…now you're just like your father!" I spat.

He flinched very slightly, almost unnoticeably, at those words, and even as his face and stance turned icy cold, I knew that he was affected by my words.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything we had heard. Several people nearby screamed, and I regained my grip on Harry's sweaty hand, well aware of Draco's eyes following the action and narrowing slightly. My inner wolf was urging me to run toward the sounds of chaos, to change, to let go, but I only held onto my control tighter. The smarter part of my brain was screaming at me to get to safety – self-preservation and all.

Draco chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to – trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" Harry said, the harsher scent of his anger filling my nose and only serving to further amplify my wolf's efforts. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

"Harry," I warned quietly, desperately trying to mask the deeper undertone my voice was beginning to develop, tugging his hand. "Come on, it's not worth it. We need to get Ginny somewhere safe, she's the youngest of all of us, and she's dead on her feet."

Harry and Ron were still glaring at Draco, and I nodded at Hermione, who grabbed Ron's hand, and we began pulling them up the path again. We turned away from Draco and almost began running again, when I froze at Draco's farewell words.

"I'll be seeing you Izzy, hopefully you'll have come to your senses by then." He drawled.

I looked coldly over my shoulders, and I knew the glow had begun to break through again. Under my icy stare, Draco's façade slipped the slightest bit. "I could say the same thing about you, Draco." I said simply, and then we left Draco behind.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" Ron said hotly.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" Hermione said fervently. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

Fred, George, and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw us, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly, "Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue –"

(_Where is Madame Maxime? We lost –"_

"Err – what?" Ron said.

I rolled my eyes and stepped toward the girl. "Je suis désolé, il ne parle pas français. Nous allons à Poudlard, mais je suis sûr que votre Directrice vous trouver." I bit my lip. "Si vous voyez des hommes avec des masques d'argent… courir et se cacher."

(_I am sorry, he doesn't speak French. We go to Hogwarts, but I'm sure you'll find your Headmistress. If you see men in silver masks… run and hide.)_

The girl nodded and turned to her friends, and I continued pulling Harry along, followed by Ron and Hermione. "They must be from Beauxbatons, Madam Maxime is the Headmistress there." I said to the other three.

"Err – what's Beauxbatons and you speak French?" Harry asked.

"It's the school of magic in France, like Hogwarts is Britain's school of magic. And yes," I said, "I speak a few languages, French being one of them."

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," Ron said, pulling out his wand, lighting it along with Hermione. Harry used his other hand – I was still holding his right hand – to dig in his pockets, but it came out empty.

"What's wrong, Harry?" I said, as his expression turned to panic.

"Ah no, I don't believe it…I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding!"

We all raised our wands high to spread the beams of light farther out, and we looked all around us, but Harry's wand was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe it's back in the tent," Ron said.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.

"Did you have it with you when you came to my tent?" I asked.

"I don't know, I don't know." Harry moaned, grabbing his head with both hands.

A rustling noise nearby made all of us jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back. Taking a deep breath, I huffed in frustration. There were too many scents and sounds to be able to separate them.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and labored to keep running. "People high – high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

"What's up with her?" Ron said, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," Harry said.

"House-elves can do whatever they want, as long as it doesn't interfere with something their masters told them." I said. "I suppose Winky's master told her to stay put, but if so, she must have a lot of strength to have made it this far away from their tent."

"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" Hermione said indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

Ron opened his mouth to argue, and I flinched as my inner wolf doubled her efforts.

"Shut it, you two!" I hissed, my voice strained. "We need to focus on finding your siblings Ron, not bicker about house-elves!" Their mouths snapped shut and my tone softened as I looked at Hermione. "Mione, as harsh as it was for Draco to say what he did, it was true. You are in more danger out here than we are, so we need to get as far away as possible."

We followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. We passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, we walked into a patch of silvery light, and when we looked through the trees, we saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not!" his friend yelled. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron…but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far –"

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."

To frustrated and tense, still holding down my power with much of my self-restraint, I dragged Harry and Ron away. By the time the sounds of the veela and their admirers had completely faded, we were in the very heart of the wood. We seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.

My ear twitched as I heard a twig snap and the rustle. Just as Harry said, "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off," my wand was up and pointed directly at Ludo Bagman's neck, the tip of it still lit but also glowing a violent blue with the beginnings of a spell on my lips, as he emerged from behind a tree right ahead of us.

In the brilliant light from my wand, we could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.

"Ludo, what the hell are you doing out here?" I growled, poking the man in his softening chest. "There's a riot going on at the campsite, Death Eaters –"

"What!?"

"At the campsite, they've got hold of Mr. Roberts and his family…"

Bagman swore loudly.

"Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop!

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" Hermione said, frowning.

"None of this should've happened in the first place," I said, shaking my head angrily. "They said they had tons of security, but…now this." Inwardly, I was shaken, wondering if this was yet another attempt on my life. Perhaps I shouldn't have come. I was pulled from my thoughts by Harry, who was peering into my face concernedly.

"Don't," he said. "I know that look, I've had it plenty of times, but just…don't."

"I hope the others are okay," Hermione said after a while.

"They'll be fine," Ron said, but the pale shade of his skin said his thoughts were thinking something else.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," Harry said. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."

"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right." Ron said. I snorted and kicked off a tree root, pacing around the clearing.

"You can't be worried about Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I couldn't care less about Lucius Malfoy," I said in disgust, "it's Draco and his mother that I'm worried about."

"Why?" Ron said, standing up quickly. "You heard the way he talked to Hermione a while ago!"

"Ron, quiet down." Hermione hissed, looking around the dark edges beyond the beams of my wand light.

"I'm telling you," I said, shaking my head, "that's not the Draco I remember."

"Izzy, that was at least nine years ago, you have to give up on that little kid Draco, because he's gone!" Harry urged.

"No, he's not!" I shot back. "You don't understand what really goes on in Malfoy Manor, none of you do! When we were kids…Draco practically cried anytime his father said _Mudblood_, he hated everything his father stood for. He was much closer to his mum, who is certainly not a Death Eater, simply married to one. She tried to shield Draco from his father as much as possible but…" I trailed off. "I shouldn't be telling you any of that, and that's as far as I'll explain. I'm just…I'm telling you, something happened to make Draco the way he is now. I saw it in his eyes when we last saw him. I'm not giving up on him."

Harry stared at me in an odd way, and sighed. "You're funeral, Izzy."

I opened my mouth to reply, but then my ears twitched again, and spun around, my wand pointed into the trees. I was to wound up to be anything other than highly alert, and my arm was steady. The other three looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward our clearing. With a mental curse, I pulled the others closer to me, as we waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt. On instinct, I slapped a hand over Harry's mouth, gestured for all of them to remain silent, and extinguished my wand's light, plunging us all into pitch darkness.

There seemed to be a deafening silence all around us, but I could hear five pounding heartbeats, one just beyond the trees surrounding our clearing. Even with my advanced vision, it was hard to see through the thickness of the trees in front of us. And then without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any we had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"MORSMORDRE!"

My blood ran cold.

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the –?" Ron gasped, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

It was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As we watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. The obvious cause was the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign.

"Let's go, now!" I snapped, yanking Harry's arm harder than I had meant to, Hermione, white and terrified, doing the same to Ron.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled.

"Shut up and move!" I practically snarled. We were halfway across the clearing when a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding us. I felt the magical buildup before I even turned to look. Before my mind could send the signal to my mouth, I yelled, "DUCK!" yanking Harry and Hermione to the ground, Hermione pulling Ron down with her.

"STUPEFY!" twenty voice roared – there was a blinding series of flashed and my hair sprang from its band as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Quickly brushing my hair from my face, I saw jets of fiery red light flying over us from the wizards wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness –

"Stop!" yelled a familiar voice. "STOP! That's my son!"

My hair stopped blowing about, and I rapidly rolled to my feet, my hand clenched so tightly around my wand, my knuckles were damn near white. I was shaking and sweating from the effort it took to not pounce on the wizard in front of me, until he had lowered his wand and Mr. Weasley strode toward us, looking terrified.

"Ron – Harry" – his voice sounded shaky – "Hermione – Izzy – are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," a cold, curt voice said.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on us. Harry got to his feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between us. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"The Dark Mark?" Harry said, puzzled.

"How dare you?" I snapped at the older, taller man. "Look at who's here in this damned clearing! Look at who you're accusing!"

"Izzy…" Mr. Weasley said warningly.

"No! We didn't do anything and then you lot try and attack us? Look at who's here!" I repeated angrily, my heart pounding in my ears, my inner wolf practically swooning and howling from the sudden rush of anger. "Head of the Snow family, Harry bloody Potter, a Weasley, and a Muggleborn girl, do you honestly, Mr. Crouch, think that one of us conjured the Mark of Voldemort?" I wasn't even able to shout, but the darker undertone in my voice was now much more audible, and as I said the dreaded name of the dark lord, there were many gasps. Harry now looked up at the mark in the sky in a new light.

"Barty," a witch in a long woolen dressing gown whispered, "she's right, plus they're just kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to –"

"Where did the Mark come from, you four?" Mr. Weasley said quickly.

After icily staring down Mr. Crouch, I turned to Mr. Weasley. "It came from over there behind the trees. We heard them coming, so I told those three to be quiet and remain still. They stopped walking and shouted the incantation –"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" Mr. Crouch said, turning his half-mad eyes on me again, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy –"

The temperature in the clearing dropped so much, so quickly, that in an instant, the trees and grass were suddenly covered in frost.

"And you should know why, _Mr._ Crouch." I said softly, my tone practically dripping icy venom. "You should be careful with your accusations, sir, especially when it involves the Snow family."

"Are you…threatening me, Miss Snow?" Mr. Crouch growled.

I raised a delicate eyebrow. "Take it as you will, Mr. Crouch."

Our stare down was interrupted by the witch in the woolen dressing gown. "We're too late," she said, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees…There's a good chance we got them…"

"Mr. Diggory, wait!" I said quickly. "Where's Cedric? Is he safe?"

Mr. Diggory shot me a tired smile over his shoulder. "He's fine, Izzy. I gave him a portkey home as soon as the riot started."

"Amos, be careful!" a few of the wizards said warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. I gripped my wand tightly, feeling as though Cedric would never forgive me if anything happened to his father…

A few seconds later, we heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's – but – blimey…"

"You've got someone?" Mr. Crouch shouted, sounding highly disbelieving. I peered at him oddly. "Who? Who is it?"

We heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was a carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. I recognized the tea towel at once.

It was Winky.

"Well, that was unexpected." I muttered, and despite the tense atmosphere, Harry tried to suppress a snort at my side. He reached for my hand and the same jolt from before shot up my arm, only this time, Harry flinched at my side and I knew he felt it too.

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This – cannot – be," he said jerkily. "No –"

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. We could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf…I mean to say…"

"Come off it, Amos," Mr. Weasley said quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," Mr. Diggory said, "and she had a wand."

"What?" Mr. Weasley asked quickly.

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barry! What's going on?"

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty?" Bagman said. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too – gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," Mr. Crouch said, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why –?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," Mr. Diggory said. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "_Ennervate_!"

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. I could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" Mr. Diggory said sternly. I frowned. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," Mr. Diggory said. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I – I – I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" Mr. Diggory barked, brandishing it in front of her.

"Hey – that's mine!" Harry said suddenly, taking a step forward.

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Diggory said, incredulously.

"That's my wand!" Harry said. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" Mr. Diggory said in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" Mr. Weasley said, very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Err – of course not," Mr. Diggory mumbled. "Sorry lad…carried away…"

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," Harry said, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," Mr. Diggory said, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" Winky squealed, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is…I is…I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It couldn't have been her, Mr. Diggory." I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah," Hermione piped up nervously. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!"

"No," Harry agreed, "it definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice." Ron added.

"A grown man, certainly." I said firmly, focusing on the terror in Winky's eyes and the feel of Harry's hand gripping mine tightly to keep me grounded.

"Well, we'll soon see," Mr. Diggory growled. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's.

"_Prior Incantato_!" Mr. Diggory roared.

Hermione gasped, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above us; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"_Deletrius_!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," Mr. Diggory said with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr. Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Amos," Mr. Weasley said loudly, "think about it…precious few wizards know how to do that spell…Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," Mr. Crouch said, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch…not…not at all."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" Mr. Crouch barked, never mind the fact that he had also blamed Harry, along with myself, "Harry Potter – and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course – everyone knows –" Mr. Diggory muttered, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, I – I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" Mr. Crouch shouted. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She – she might've picked it up anywhere –"

"He should just stop before Crouch hexes him…" I muttered to the trio, all of whom were watching the scene with wide, highly interested eyes, and they nodded.

"Precisely, Amos," Mr. Weasley said. "She might have picked it up anywhere…Winky?" He said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers. "I – I is finding it…finding it there, sir…" she whispered, "there…in the trees, sir."

"You see, Amos?" Mr. Weasley said. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" Mr. Diggory impatiently said. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir…no one…"

"Amos," Mr. Crouch said curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master…" Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please…"

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" Winky shrieked, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

I grabbed her arm and pulled her back slightly. "Hermione stop," I said quietly.

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can – if Harry could have it back, please –"

Mr. Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

"Come on, you four," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf.

"Hermione," I said, tugging her arm. She turned and followed us out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" Hermione said, the moment we had left the clearing.

"I don't know Mione," I said, "every house-elf is different. Some elves would take the opportunity to find a better family, probably one with small children, others fall into depression. Winky seems to fit into the second category…"

"What happened to the others?" Mr. Weasley said quickly.

"We lost them in the dark," Ron said. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when we reached the edge of the wood, our progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surge forward.

"What's going on in there?

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur – it's not – Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," Mr. Weasley said impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led us through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on? He called through the dark. "Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others –"

"I've got them here," Mr. Weasley said, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I entered after him.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bed sheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken. Without hesitation, I let go of Harry's hand and hurried toward the three eldest Weasley boys.

"My mum was a Head Healer," I said quietly, "I know a thing or two, let me take a look at that, Bill."

He gave me an uncertain look and I raised an eyebrow challengingly. With a sigh, Bill carefully peeled back the bed sheet and revealed a large gash. Biting back the sudden thirst burning in my throat, I began going through the strongest healing spells I knew. "It'll leave a scar no matter who heals it." I muttered.

"Doesn't matter, just do what you've got to. Did you get them, Dad?" Bill said sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," Mr. Weasley said. "We found Barry Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" Bill, Charlie, and Percy said together; Bill hissing as I used a disinfectant spell over the wound.

"Harry's wand?" Fred asked, fascination in his eyes as he now watched Bill's skin knit back together on its own. As this happened, I quickly healed Percy's nose without a blink, and checked Charlie over, who seemed to have a shallower, but longer cut on his side.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" Percy said, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When we had finished our story, Percy swelled indignantly and Charlie gave me a tired smile in thanks.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to...embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry...how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control –"

"She didn't do anything – she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" Percy said pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" Hermione shouted. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" Ron said impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone…Why's it such a big deal?"

"It's Voldemort's symbol, Ron." all of them gasped, and I rolled my eyes.

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked…it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," Ron said, frowning. "I mean…it's still only a shape in the sky…"

"No," I said, my voice now laced in ice, as I strapped my wand back into its holster. My patience with the night's events had run thin, and now that my inner wolf had stopped running wild in my core, all that was left was cold anger. "You don't get it. You wouldn't understand the terror…the panic…associated with seeing that mark. Voldemort and his followers sent that bloody Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed. Can you imagine…coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house? Knowing what you're about to find inside?" My breathing hitched, and I forced myself to calm down, my inner wolf now whimpering in sadness. "Or perhaps, already being inside the house, kneeling on the floor beside the bodies, and watching, helpless, as those bastards shot the mark into the sky? A broadcast to everyone around as to what had happened to you…no hiding your tragedy…no peace from well-meaning people…"

There was dead silence while everyone looked at each other, pale as sheets, and then stared at me. Though I was now curled up on the chair, my knees pulled up to my chin, and my face hidden, I still felt their eyes on me…their curiosity…

Then, Bill broke the silence. "Well…it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Roberts's before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" Harry said slowly. "What are Death Eaters?"

I couldn't stop myself from snorting angrily, once again dragging all of their attention to me. Looking up, I cocked my head to the side and stared at Harry for a long minute, just until he broke eye contact and looked away. "Being Harry Potter, being raised in the muggle world, and learning your story as soon as you got into the wizarding world…you should've made it your mission in life to find out absolutely everything about it. You should know everything from how your parents died, when, what time, where, and by who. You should know Voldemort's entire operation inside out. You should know where Voldemort's body is, if there's one left, or if the bastard is somewhere, half-dead, plotting his revenge. You should've prepared yourself for the possibility that his followers might try to harm you for getting rid of their leader!"

By this point, all of them were gaping at me, wide-eyed, and Harry looked hurt beyond words, but I continued on mercilessly. "You certainly shouldn't be asking questions about something that should be common knowledge, especially to you. You absolutely shouldn't be losing your wand, especially during a dangerous situation like that. You can't expect everyone else to defend you because you were irresponsible and lost your most important weapon!"

"Izzy, that's enough!" Mr. Weasley said, his voice hard.

Looking at Harry, he had his head lowered, his fists clenched, and I could see his body shaking, whether from anger or tears, I didn't know but I couldn't stop myself. I gave a harsh laugh and stood up. "Whatever, I'm out of here." No one seemed to know what to say as I walked swiftly to the entrance of the tent, but before I was completely out, I looked back at all of them. "Be safe, and watch each other's backs."

With that final parting, I was gone.


	5. Hogwarts

_Previous Chapter:_

_Looking at Harry, he had his head lowered, his fists clenched, and I could see his body shaking, whether from anger or tears, I didn't know but I couldn't stop myself. I gave a harsh laugh and stood up. "Whatever, I'm out of here." No one seemed to know what to say as I walked swiftly to the entrance of the tent, but before I was completely out, I looked back at all of them. "Be safe, and watch each other's backs."_

_With that final parting, I was gone._

**Chapter Five: Hogwarts**

"_**Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."**_

I awoke on September 1st to the sound of heavy rain splattering across the giant windows that rose above my bed. With a groan, I rolled over and buried my face back into my soft pillows, slowly sinking back into dreamless bliss. I was toeing the line between consciousness and sleep, when I felt two tiny hands nudging my side.

"Oh no, Mistress Isavéla," Prim's little voice squeaked softly, "You must wake up, you is leaving for Hogwarts today. Come on, up, up!"

Groaning more loudly now, I rolled farther towards the center of the bed but Prim was not to be discouraged as she popped onto my pillow and hovered over me. "Nooo," I moaned, "I'm not going."

"Oh yes you are, Mistress Isavéla." Prim said, now stern. "What would Mistress Isavéla's parents be thinking if they is seeing you now? Hiding?"

"You're little speech isn't going to work Prim, I'm not going." I said, a note of finality in my voice. Prim snorted.

"Shut up, get up, and get ready." She said, her tone unyielding. I peeked up from my pillow and raised a challenging eyebrow, which she matched. "If Mistress Isavéla is not being up and ready by the time I is finished making breakfast…" she let the threat trail off, and I knew from that slightly demented gleam in her eye, the same gleam Dobby use to have when Draco and I were little kids, that she'd follow up.

"Ugh!" I growled in defeat.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Prim popped off, I assumed, to make breakfast. Rolling my eyes and muttering about overzealous house-elves, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom to handle my full bladder problem. Once that was done, I pulled back my hair, brushed my teeth…the whole works. I didn't bother putting on make-up, I didn't need it and it wasn't like I was going anywhere special anyway…it was just school, albeit a magical school filled with other pureblood children that I hadn't seen in years and a certain emerald-eyed boy that I'd practically emotionally tore down two days ago.

My inner wolf huffed inside my inner core.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, and you were such a big help that night." I muttered sarcastically.

Inside my walk-in closet, I pulled on my usually lacy underclothes and opted for skin-tight black skinny jeans, black lace-up block heels, and a green sheer half-blouse with gold buttons, that showed off my toned stomach and glittering belly ring. I realized with a start that the shirt reminded me of Harry's eyes. That was twice since I'd awoken that I'd thought about them…what was wrong with me? Shaking my head to clear away thoughts I didn't want to dwell on, I let my hair fall down my back in its usual bouncy, obsidian curls. I strapped my wand holster onto my right thigh and secured my wand inside, and then, feeling a bit lazy, I used a spell to pack my purse with everything I wanted to keep on hand, including my shrunken trunk. Looking around, I realized that this was the last time I'd be in this room for a long time, especially as I spent winter holidays elsewhere.

With a shrug and a sigh, I said a mental goodbye to my room, and left it, heading downstairs. I was surprised and ecstatic to see Aunt Ava and Amalia seated at the kitchen table when I arrived, and they smiled and greeted me as though I hadn't just seen them the previous day, my aunt having been hysterical after reading about the riot at the World Cup. I hugged them both and planted a kiss on Amalia soft little cheek before sitting down, and allowed Prim to serve us. Conversation flowed easily between Aunt Ava, Prim, and I, while Amalia giggled at the funny faces I directed at her. We talked about everything from the World Cup to what classes I was most excited about. Just when I was beginning to relax and unravel that tight knot that had curled up in my stomach, Prim announced that it was time to go to Kings' Cross Station.

"I'm afraid Amalia has a healer's appointment in fifteen minutes, so we'll have to say goodbye now, Izzy." Aunt Ava said apologetically, tears already glistening in her eyes.

I pulled her and Amalia into a tight family hug, and I felt my own eyes sting as I realized that this was the last of our family, the four of us, including Prim. "Don't worry about it Aunt A, and besides, I promise to write often and even send pictures. This term will fly by, I just know it. I'll be fine." I insisted, before pulling back.

"Oh dear, I know you'll be the best witch at Hogwarts, it's in your blood, after all." She said with a sad smile. "Redd and Ilya would be incredibly proud of the young woman you've become, I just know it."

Too choked up to speak, I simply nodded and hugged them once more. With one last sad look, the two of them portkeyed away; knowing that I could call for Prim and she'd be there in a second, our goodbye was a lot less sad. One final look around my home, and I disappeared in a swirl of what appeared to be black wisps.

I reappeared a moment later, unnoticed, and platform nine and three-quarters materialized before me. The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. I didn't bother to amble around the platform, and certainly didn't miss the appreciative and curious stares I received, as I headed directly for the train. As I crossed the platform, a pool of red swam in my peripheral and I jerked my head to the side to see the large family of Weasleys standing together, along with Harry and Hermione. A short plump woman that I assumed was Mrs. Weasley was fussing over Harry, and he was blushing, but obviously enjoying the motherly attention. I must've stopped walking because he looked over her head and our eyes met at that second, and when his entire face lit up and he raised a hand to wave, I bolted onto the train without a backward glance.

Out of view of Harry, I leaned against a nearby wall in the train's corridor and tried to calm my breathing. My heart was racing for reasons entirely unknown and my mind was spinning with almost incoherent thoughts. Why was I so unraveled at the sight of the dark-haired boy? And why the hell did he seem so happy to see me, after I'd practically disgraced him with everything that I'd said? Shaking my head firmly, I began my journey down the train's corridor to look for a vacant compartment, as I did not desire to share one with complete strangers. My first experience in making friends ultimately did not end as well as I had hoped, but I'd been a bit high strung two nights ago, so who could blame me?

The train had filled up quicker than I anticipated and by the time it departed from Kings Cross, I was still compartment-less. I was just making another circuit up and down the train corridor when I heard a familiar warm voice calling my name.

"Izzy! Izzy, come back!" Hermione called from behind me.

I stopped walking and turned around, raising a calm eyebrow at the honey-haired girl who was smiling brightly at me, which was totally unexpected. Her eyes practically jumped out of their sockets as she took in my outfit, but there was none of the usual envy girls typically eyed me with, only appraisal. She was leaning halfway out of the open compartment door, and gesturing for me to come to her. With an internal glance upward to the heavens, I walked the last few feet separating us and was almost taken aback when she pulled me into a friendly hug, and stood completely still, my arms awkwardly at my side. She must've realized my discomfort because she let go quickly.

"Sorry…" she muttered, her cheeks reddening.

"It's nice to see you again, Mione…" I said slowly. "But after…you know… I thought none of you would want to have anything to do with me?"

Hermione actually giggled. "Oh don't be ridiculous, Izzy! We're friends, and friends argue all the time, but that doesn't mean we stop being friends. Ron and I argue near constantly, but we've got each other's back when it counts. That's what friendship is, you know." She said, her cinnamon eyes sparkling warmly.

The wave of relief that crashed over me was damn near staggering. "So – so Harry's not..?"

Hermione pushed open the compartment door completely, and suddenly, I was staring at both Harry and Ron, both of whom smiled brightly at me, their eyes widening exponentially at my attire. "Ask him yourself." She said.

Harry stood up and gently took my hand, slowly, as if expecting me to bolt and as with the previous two times our hands had clasped, a violent jolt of…something rushed through me, and Harry as well, judging from his grimace. A flush of embarrassment at my reaction to seeing him on the platform splashed across my face, but Harry just pulled me into the compartment and sat me down beside him. "It's like Hermione said, Izzy, this is what friendship is. Yeah, we argue and disagree and even really go at it sometimes, but when it's really time to pull together, we've got each other's backs no matter what. And well," he ducked his head with a soft, lopsided grin and I felt my chest tighten, "you're our friend now, and that means, despite what you said the other night, we're still friends right now."

I hung my head. "Harry – I –"

"Don't bother, Izzy." Harry interrupted, patting my leg. "Those things you said…yes, they hurt like hell, but you were being honest and you weren't saying them to hurt me, you were trying to help me. And – and you were right." He leaned back and looked away, out of the window at the heavy rain still smashing against it. "I should've been more prepared when I came into this world, I should've changed my circumstances, but –" he shrugged, "I can't go back and change that. What I can do, however, is try and start to do that now, if – if you'd be willing to help?"

I stared at him, amazement peeking through my usual carefully constructed expressions. "You – you're certainly more than I gave you credit for, Harry. But as for your request, I'd be glad to help and –" I held out my hand, "honored to have gained my first real friends."

Slapping my hand away, Harry threw an arm around my shoulder on one side, and Ron did the same on the other, while Hermione leaned forward and patted my leg. Suddenly, I groaned. "Why do I feel as though life is about to get much, much more interesting?"

The look shared between the three of them was answer enough.

An interesting bit of information popped into my head and I lit up excitedly, my earlier reservations melting away. "Oh! My Aunt Ava told me what's going on at Hogwarts this year!" I said conspiratorially.

Ron's eyes rounded. "Really? What is it? Bagman wanted to tell us, at the World Cup, remember? What –"

"Shh!" Hermione suddenly hissed, holding a finger up to her lips. We all fell silent and my ears perked up at a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore – the man's such a Mudblood-lover – and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…"

I bit my lip and dug my nails into my palms to keep myself focused on my three new friends and not the burning urge to go slap Draco again. He's changed so much, he sounds just like his father, perhaps – perhaps Harry was right, and the Draco I once knew was gone…

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Draco's voice.

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry and I split the cost of a bunch of treats for the four of us to share.

Several of the trio's friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, and I was reintroduced to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, both of whom greeted me as though we'd been friends for years. I noticed that the trio's friends were very open and welcoming me as one of their own. I was also greeted rather excitedly by Neville Longbottom.

"Izzy?" he gasped disbelievingly as he entered the compartment.

"Neville!" I squealed, darted forward and hugging the still round-faced boy.

"You two know each other?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Of course," Neville said, now smiling brightly, "Izzy and I use to play together when we were kids." Then he gave me a mock-hurt look, "but I haven't seen her in years!"

I shrugged apologetically. "You know how it is, Nev." And he nodded sadly. "But I'm back now, and that's all that matters. How's your gran? Still bloody scary, I hope?"

He snorted. "Definitely, and of course when I write her and tell her that you're at Hogwarts now, she'll want to see you…"

"No problem," I laughed, "Your gran is the only person who can beat me at wizard's poker."

As our conversation continued, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were staring from Neville to me, and back again, practically gaping. "What?" I asked, shifting slightly.

Harry shook his head, the first to respond. "Nothing…it's just – we've never seen Neville so…"

"Open, with someone." Hermione finished kindly, as Neville shrugged. "Do all pureblood children know each other?"

"Of course not," Neville answered, before I could, "but most of us do. As children, our parents or guardians usually mingle us with other pureblood children, usually to find a suitable match so that marriage contracts and alliances can be made early on."

Hermione's eyes popped. "But that's – that's –"

"Our culture." I said, raising an eyebrow, causing Hermione to flush and close her mouth.

Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy – Mullet – Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. And the boys and I engaged each other in a debate on the World Cup. After half an hour or so, I glanced over and saw that Hermione was obviously feeling left out and was buried in _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_. Pulling myself from the conversation, I gently removed the book from her hand and thought of a topic that I could discuss with her. I knew from our conversations at the World Cup that she'd also never had a real female friend to talk girly talk with, and I was at a lost. Suddenly, a thought popped into my head.

"So, do you have your dress robes yet?" I asked, a smile blooming on my lips.

"Dress robes?" Hermione said, flushing as her eyes widened in horror. "Oh no, I can't believe I've forgotten about them! They were on the requirements list this year!"

Giggling, I patted her knee. "Don't worry, Mione. I promise I'll take care of it in time for the..." I trailed off, deciding not to ruin the surprise for the others. "Oh never mind, you'll see."

"Gran didn't want to go," Neville said to the boys, "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"How's about you and I go together next time, Nev? My treat for disappearing on you for years." I insisted. Smiling shyly, Neville looked over at me.

"Really, Iz?" He said, shortening my already short nickname. "You mean that?"

"Of course, Neville. You know you've always been like a brother to me."

"We saw him right up close, Krum I mean," Ron said. "We were in the Top Box –"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco had appeared in the doorway, behind him stood two enormous boys I vaguely recognized as Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," Harry said coolly.

"Really Draco, is this necessary?" I asked, my voice sounding tired. Draco stared at me, surrounded by Gryffindors, and I saw something pass through his eyes. But he turned away from me.

"Weasley…what is _that?_" Draco said, pointing at Pigwidgeon's, Ron's owl, cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Draco was quicker and reached out. The second he grasped the sleeve, I clenched my fist in my lap, and the robes compressed into a tight ball and flew to me. The compartment was silent as now I glared at Draco, tired of his childish games. "You shouldn't touch what isn't yours, Draco." I said coldly.

He seemed taken aback, but gathered himself and tried again. "So…going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know… going to enter, Weasley? Going to… you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" Ron snapped.

"Are you going to enter?" Draco repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Don't you know that you should leave somewhere you're obviously not wanted, _Malfoy_?" I said, emphasizing his last name. I'd always called him by first name, even at the World Cup during the riot. His face seemed to pale, almost unnoticeably, as his stormy eyes darted to me and I saw that they were hurt. Merlin, Draco confused the hell out of me. One moment he was a prick, and the next, he revealed that he was still the Draco I used to know.

"Whatever," Draco snapped, rolling his eyes. He beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" Hermione said reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered, "_Reparo!_" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Mione…" I said, and she looked at me, I shook my head.

While Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey, I spent that time pondering this new situation with Draco. Despite my anger and disappointment with his attitude now, I knew I couldn't simply leave him. That hurt I saw in his eyes…I knew that look. He was drowning inside, and no one else saw it. As we got closer to the school, the boys left the compartment so that Hermione and I could change, and I pulled the black curtain over the glass window. Before she even began, I kicked off my heels and slid out of my jeans and blouse. Clad in only my lacy underclothes, Hermione's face flushed brilliantly and she looked determinedly away.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh come on, Hermione, we're both girls here. Didn't you say the girls shared a bathroom at Hogwarts?"

"Well…yes, but…just…unprepared." She muttered.

Giggling furiously, I unshrunk my trunk to the wardrobe compartment and pulled out my uniform. I slipped into knee-high black stockings, a deep black pleated skirt, and black dragon-hide boots. I pulled on my crisped white blouse and had Hermione button my cuffs, and then I buttoned my own blouse and fixed my plain black tie, knowing that it would change color after my sorting. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, allowing it to fall down my back. Putting my Muggle clothes into my trunk, I shrunk it, replaced my wand into its thigh holster, checked my appearance in the window's reflection. Hermione was already dressed and ready, struggling to pull her hair back with a headband. When we were done, we let the boys back in and we remained silent as the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron put his dress robes over Pigwidgeon again as we left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over our heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid, I supposed, bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid, but when I'd enrolled at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had told me, via owl post, that I was to take the carriages up to the school and wait in the entrance hall for the first years.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," Hermione said fervently, shivering as we inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred carriages stood waiting for us outside the station, and I froze upon seeing the scaly winged horse-like creatures.

"What's wrong, Izzy?" Harry said, pausing beside me.

"You don't see them?" I said, gesturing to the carriages.

"See what?" Ron asked, and he, Harry, Hermione, and Neville stared at the carriages, trying to see what I saw. "They're pulled by magic, of course."

I shook my head. "No, they're not. They're pulled by Thestrals…"

Hermione gasped, and her eyes were round as saucers as she stared at me. "You…you can see them?"

"My parents…" I said, by way of answer.

"What are Thestrals and why can't we see them?" Harry said, looking from Hermione to me.

"Thestrals…are a breed of winged horses, with a skeletal body, face with reptilian features, and wide, leathery wings that resemble a bat's." I described quietly. "And you can only see them if you've seen someone die…"

Now more reluctant to climb into the carriage, I led the silent group to one and the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle. Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, I got my first look at Hogwarts and I was speechless. It was beautiful. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and I jumped down from our carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when we were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," Ron said, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak – AARGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped – narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks. People all around us shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. I looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above us, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"Who the hell is that?" I snapped, sidestepping another water bomb.

"PEEVES!" An angry voice yelled, unknowingly answering my question.

"Ah," I said, pulling Hermione out of the way of yet another water balloon, "the infamous Peeves the Poltergeist."

"Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and I darted forward, and grasped her arms to steady her.

"Thank you, Miss –"

"Snow, ma'am." I answered. She peered more closely at me, interest sparking in her dark eyes.

"Ah yes, you wait here. Peeves, get down here NOW!" she barked, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"No doing nothing!" Peeves cacled, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the headmaster!" the witch shouted. "I'm warning you, Peeves –"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

"Well, move along, then!" the witch said sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Already knowing that I had to stay, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville all hugged me and wished me luck, stating that under any circumstances was I allowed to be sorted anywhere but Gryffindor. Soon, I was left alone in the entrance hall with the stern witch and together, with the use of spells, we cleaned and dried the place and ourselves.

"I apologize for this chaos, Miss Snow," she said, even her tone was stern, "I assure you, we don't usually start of the year like this."

Smiling, I waved away her apology. "Don't worry about it, Professor. It's a school of magic, I expected a certain measure of chaos." When the other first years arrived, they stared at me in confusion, but remained quiet as the Professor led us into a small, empty chamber off the hall.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, I am Professor McGonagall." She began. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Professor McGonagall disappeared into the Hall, and I was left with the tiny first years, all soaking wet and shivering. Feeling incredibly bad for them, I sighed. "If you want to be dry and warm, line up!" I called. Without hesitation, all of them fell into line and I carefully cast drying and warming charms over all of them. They all thanked me quietly and began speculating about how we would be sorted. Of course I already knew, but to tell them would ruin part of the Hogwarts experience.

I was leaning against a wall, when several people screamed. Looking up, I saw about twenty ghosts stream through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name, especially after that stunt he pulled tonight, and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. Nobody answered.

"New students!" the Fat Friar said, smiling around at them. Thankfully, they hadn't noticed me yet. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the Friar said. "My old house, you know.

"Move along now," a sharp voice said. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," she told us, "Miss Snow, please stand in front, and follow me."

Feeling a slight bit of tension and nervousness in my gut, I walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where Professor McGonagall led us up there, so that we came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind us. I felt a fair bit of power flowing from the table, and I just knew that it was coming from Dumbledore himself.

As soon as the Hall got a look at the only obviously non-first year person in line, the confused whispers began, and I gained the appreciative glances of almost every male, and some females, in the Hall. To avoid the staring, I looked up at the ceiling, which was beautifully enchanted to look like the sky outside. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. Looking back down, I scanned the Gryffindor Table, and my eyes fell on Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville, all of whom gave me encouraging smiles and small waves. Smiling and feeling loads better, I nodded slightly at them.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before us, and on top of it, and extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There live d four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished, but I inwardly groaned. I felt as though I belonged in each one of those Houses, even Slytherin…

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment…


	6. Triwizard Tournament

_Previous Chapter:_

_Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment…_

**Chapter Six: **_**Triwizard Tournament**_

"_**Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.**_**"**

"When I call out your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool," she told us, "When the Hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table. As we have a non-first year student to be sorted, she will go first. Snow, Isavéla."

I walked forward to the stool, calm on the outside, my insides wriggling unpleasantly, even my inner wolf was lying with her face covered by her paws. I picked up the Sorting Hat between two fingers, and reluctantly put it on my head as I smoothed my skirt, sat down on the stool, and crossed my legs.

The Hat was disgustingly filthy and I cringed the longer the seconds ticked by with it on my head.

"Yes well, we all have to put up with shit sometimes, eh Snow?" the Hat's surprisingly deep voice echoed inside my head. I raised an eyebrow and felt my lip twitch.

_Ah, I hope you don't use such language on the first years, Mr. Hat,_ I thought to it.

"Those little brats will be fine Snow, but we're not here to think about them. This is about you. Now, where to sort you…" it hummed slightly. "Interesting…very, very interesting. We've got brains, loads of intelligence and thirst for knowledge – Ravenclaw. Ah, but you're unbreakably loyal to those who are loyal to you, and you're work ethic is amazing – Hufflepuff. Hmm, bravery and strength in spades, along with a wicked hot temper – Gryffindor. But this, my, my, my…this is what I've been looking for. Yes, a dark past, an interesting heritage no one knows about, incredible power and yearning for more, cunning and ambition, and of course, you're Head to one of the oldest and most formidable pureblood lines in wizarding Britain – Slytherin."

Admittedly, it was rather interesting to have my traits broken down for me to understand, and it became obvious that my Slytherin qualities seemed to outweigh the others. I was prepared to be put into the same house as Draco, when the Hat said one last thing. "Yes, your Slytherin qualities are great, but you would do best in – Gryffindor!"

The table on the far left exploded with ear-shattering cheers, and I resisted the urge to slap my hands over my ears though I dearly wanted to. These cheers were mixed with barely stifled groans of disappointment from the other houses, but I was all smiles as I set the Hat gently onto the stool and walked over to my new Table. I was saved a seat between Harry and Neville, with Ron and Hermione seated directly across from us, and as I looked down, I grinned as my tie changed from black to red and gold.

"Congrats!" the trio and Neville said, as the table's cheers gradually died down. Neville gave me a one-armed hug, and then we all turned back to the front of the Hall as the Sorting continued rather quickly.

"Creevey, Dennis!"

A tiny boy, Dennis Creevey, staggered forward, tripping over a giant moleskin coat as the obvious half-giant from the station, Hagrid, sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teacher's table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarm – but there was something in his dark eyes that told me otherwise. He winked at the trio as he sat down at the end of the staff table, and we all watched little Dennis putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide –

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

I clapped proudly along with the other Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join a boy that looked like an older version of himself. There was something in the air around the Gryffindor table; it was a warm, welcoming feel, as if I finally belonged to something bigger.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" Colin said, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" Dennis said, , as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"

I watched Harry's smile fade and he looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," a ghost I recognized from A History, Hogwarts as Nearly Headless Nick.

"Course it is, if you're dead," Ron snapped, biting his tongue when I kicked him under the table with a stern look.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," Nearly Headless Nick said, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined our table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

"Winning streak?" I asked.

"Err yeah," Harry said. "We've won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row. Before that, Slytherin had won it for seven years in a row."

"Wait…three years?" I said slowly. "Isn't that when you lot became first years?"

The trio shared a look and smiled, causing me to snort. "Why do I feel as though that's not a coincidence?"

The three of them simply shrugged innocently.

And finally, with Kevin Whitby being sorted into Hufflepuff, the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," Ron said, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet, and I couldn't help but gaze in admiration as I felt his power flow. I could tell that the other students weren't as sensitive to magic as I was, and so they didn't feel it unless Dumbledore wanted them to. He was smiling around at all of the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told us, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" Harry and Ron said loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before our eyes, causing me to giggle and Hermione tried to hide the small smile on her lips.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as we loaded our own plates, and while Hermione was more reserved, I dug in as eagerly as the boys. Dinner passed rather interestingly enough, in between my asking yet more questions about Hogwarts and the trio themselves, Nick regaling us with stories of Peeves and revealing the enormous gathering of house-elves working around the castle, prompting Hermione to refuse to finish her meal.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. My eyes lit up, not literally this time, and my hand darted for the platter of treacle tart just as Harry's did the same. With a playful smirk, I slapped his hand away and picked up the biggest one off the top.

"Ladies first, Potter." I teased.

Very maturely, he snatched the treacle tart from my fingers and licked it, claiming it as his own. "You snooze, you lose, Snow." He shot back, as I glared at him. This little back-and-forth was enough to make even Hermione crack the barest hint of a smile.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean once again, Dumbledore got to his feet again and I was once again awed by the strong hum of power radiating from him. He projected a benevolent grandfatherly figure, but that twinkle in his eye was more calculating and alert than I might've originally noticed. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" Dumbledore said, smiling around at us all. "Now that we are all fed and watered –"

"Hmph!" Hermione snorted, crossing her arms defiantly.

"I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The slight twitch at the corner of Dumbledore's mouth suggested that even he didn't take the list seriously, but he continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry and I gasped, my dreams of becoming a star player for Gryffindor burst into flames and crumbled before my eyes. Harry, Fred, and George were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. I knew from our chats at the World Cup that the three of them were on the team, and had been for a number of years. This must've been terrible news to Quidditch fanatics like them.

Dumbledore went on.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –"

I groaned at the interruption, even though I already knew what Dumbledore was about to announce. I wanted to faces of all my friends when they heard the exciting news.

But at that moment, there was deafening rumble of thunder, the doors of the Great Hall banged open, startling nearly the whole Hall. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, my hand rested on my wand in its holster on my right thigh, and he was suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step, and I recognized the sound of wood. He must have a prosthetic leg. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a surprisingly familiar face, though that didn't lessen any of the shock at seeing it. His face looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces were supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scared. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that were the most eye-catching, no pun intended. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye – and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all we could see was whiteness.

That was the face of a man who had dedicated his life to fighting the dark arts.

The familiar man reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words I should've been able to hear but couldn't. That perplexed me, as my hearing could pick up sounds from the portraits farther away in the castle. Dumbledore seemed to be making some inquiry of the man, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone that I still couldn't hear. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The man sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. Heis normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Dumbledore said brightly into the silence. Ah, now his presence made sense. "Professor Moody."

I expected a new staff member to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore, Hagrid, and I. The trio and others seemed startled by my fervent applause of the man, but how could I not show respect for a man that use to babysit me when I was a small child? Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"That's rude you know," I hissed pointedly, causing those around me to look away quickly.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," Ron said in a low, awed voice.

"Wait, what did he need help with?" I whispered.

"Thought he heard intruders around the side of his house," Harry murmured, "enchanted dustbin lids and a whole lot of other rot. They suspect he was just being paranoid."

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"He's been fighting dark wizards and creatures since he was a graduate, fresh out of Hogwarts. He was a trainee in the Auror program, then an Auror, and he quickly moved up the ranks until he was a Head Auror and Hit Wizard, and of course, he took it upon himself to take care of things outside his job as well. He's been captured and tortured, and injured in battle too many times to count. Too many attempts on his life, and now he won't drink out of anything except his own flask. Checks all his food before he even nibbles it. I wouldn't be surprised if the inside of his coat was lined with weapons, and perhaps an extra wand or two."

"But wizards are only allowed to carry one!" Hermione gasped, missing the point.

"That's bloody incredible." Ron breathed, now more awed than before. It looks like Ron found a replacement idol for Viktor Krum.

"Why do you know so much about him?" Harry asked quietly. I gave a loaded glance.

"He trained my dad when he was a trainee in the Auror program." I replied, leaving out the extra details.

"Your dad was an Auror?" Hermione and Ron asked.

"Wait…" Hermione paused, "what was your father's name?"

"Redd Snow, why?" I answered, noting the change in Hermione's expression.

Her eyes widened dramatically and she flushed, looking down, and biting her lip. "Oh nothing…" she said, but I figured I could push her later on the subject.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it, furthering my point about his paranoid habits. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and I saw that below the table, was several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. That thing use to creep me out when I was younger, I briefly remembered.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an even that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

Just as anticipated, I got the reaction I wanted from my new friends, mainly the Weasley twins.

"You're JOKING!" Fred exclaimed loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I assure you I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Err – but maybe this is not the time…no…" Dumbledore said, "Ah where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament…well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

Looking around the Hall, I could see that even the purebloods that were bound to already know what the Tournament consisted of, were paying rapt attention.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed.

"Of course Mione," I snorted, "it wouldn't be entertaining if it wasn't dangerous or challenging."

Her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall, in fact, many of them were whispering excitedly to one another.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger."

I shook my head. That was the fun of the Tournament.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches.

He was obviously not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, I could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This –" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious – "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled knowingly as they flicked over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen."

Ron snorted. "He's wasting his breath. He knows nothing will stop Fred and George from trying anyway."

"Damn right, little brother!" George hissed in our direction, having heard Ron. I smiled at his determination.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as we all got to our feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" George said, who had not yet joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we a shot?"

"Because if they give you two an exception, they'll have to do the same for every underage student that wants to enter." I said obviously. "What if it was…Ginny that wanted to enter? Knowing how dangerous the tournament is and that there was a chance she'd be picked, would you still feel the same about the age restriction?"

The twins paused for a minute.

"They're not stopping me entering," Fred finally said stubbornly, scowling at the top table. "The champions will get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

Was it shallow or spoiled of me to think that a thousand Galleons was pocket change?

"Yeah," Ron said, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Come on," Hermione said, bringing us all back, "we'll be the only ones left here if you lot don't move."

And so Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and I set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" Harry asked.

"Dunno," Fred said, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," Ron said.

"Doesn't matter," I jumped in, "Once the champion is chosen for their school, they can't back out unless all three school heads agree to restart the entire tournament, and re-pick every champion. And since Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are only bringing the students they think could be good champions, I doubt they'll agree to restart the tournament no matter who's chosen."

"People have died, though! Doesn't that bother any of you?" Hermione said in a worried voice as we walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Not at all," Fred said airily, and I realized that he was the dominant twin, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, it's like Izzy said, where's the fun without a bit of risk? The fun is in the danger. Hey Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older…Dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. I guiltily noticed that I hadn't even realized when he'd joined us.

"I expect my gran would want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. That's another reason she adores you, Izzy. You're the aggressive one. I'll just have to –"

My arm darted out and jerked Neville towards me before his foot could sink into a step halfway up the staircase. I didn't know how I'd known about the trick step, but it was just a feeling I'd had.

"Gee, thanks Izzy." Neville muttered.

We made our way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, my first time, which was concealed behind a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked as we approached.

"Balderdash," George said, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which we all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and I distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before she gestured for me to follow her up to the girls' dormitory.

"I'll be up in a few minutes, Mione." I called after her. She paused at the top of the staircase, but shrugged and disappeared into the girls' dormitory.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, concernedly.

I flashed him a deeply dimpled smile and nodded. "I'm fine Harry, I just need a minute to…take it all in, you know?" I said, saying goodnight to the others over Harry's shoulder as they went up to their own dorms.

"Yeah…I know what you mean. My first year, on the first night here, I could barely sleep…and when I did sleep, I had odd dreams." He said, a faraway look in his eyes. The next second, his jaw nearly cracked with the force of a yawn, and I laughed and gently grabbed his shoulder.

"Go on to sleep, Harry. I'll be fine." I assured him.

To my surprise, Harry placed his hands on my waist and pulled me to him in a hug, and I automatically wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his chest. Though unprepared for Harry's forwardness, I already felt a sort of attachment to him. I didn't know if it was attraction or something else, perhaps a sort of kinship – but whatever it was, it was nice. His body was warm against mine, and I could hear his heartbeat, a soothing, rhythmic sound.

With a sigh, I pulled back. "Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Izzy, sweet dreams."

I watched Harry drift up to the door leading to his dormitory, but before he entered completely, he looked back at me and gave me a tired, lopsided grin. I couldn't stop myself from smiling back even if I wanted to…and I didn't. When finally, I was the last person in the now darker common room, I wracked my brain, trying to remember something my father had left for me. He and my mother must've known that sooner or later, some of Voldemort's people would come after us, and so they had filled a safe – that had been built into the wall of a random room and hidden behind a dusty old wardrobe – with many essential things they felt I would need in the future. Amongst the collection was a note, handwritten by my father, detailing how to find a place called the East Tower. It was a place that even the oldest living witches and wizards believed to be a myth, but my father had assured me that it was in fact real…because he had lived in it during his time as a Hogwarts student.

Of course, I had wondered how he could find such a place when older and more powerful wizards couldn't, but he'd revealed that in the note as well. According to my father, my family was around when Hogwarts was first being built, and my ancestor, Calius Snow, helped fund the project, asking only one thing in return: that a magically hidden tower be built for only his descendants to use during their time at Hogwarts. The request was granted, and now I was wandering the dark, drafty corridors of Hogwarts trying to find it. It was a rather simple task of cloaking myself in shadows and creeping along the edge of the corridors, hiding in dark alcoves and corners when a professor or ghost drifted by.

Because of its name, East _Tower_, I assumed that the entrance had to be on the seventh floor, which I was already on since leaving the Gryffindor Tower, but after making several rounds on the floor, I had still come up with nothing. Frustration didn't even begin to describe my emotions at the moment. It was at least one o'clock in the morning, my inner wolf was incredibly unhelpful in our search, and not for the first time, I wished I could separate from it, at least for a while. With yet another annoyed sigh, I tried to calm myself and try a different approach. Such a place couldn't possibly simply be hidden this well without the help of powerful magic, no matter how subtle. Because of my sensitivity to magic, I decided to try to connect with it.

I crept along the corridor to the nearest window until my body was bathed in an iridescent glow of the moon, and I immediately felt the power in my blood pulse quickly, and my fingers began to tingle. Slowly, with every ounce of self-control that I possessed, I allowed my inner wolf to flex a bit and spread its power into my body. Immediately, my hair began to stir in an invisible wind, entirely magical in its nature; my fingernails, which maintained contact with the cold stone wall, turned black and grew into sharp claws; the corridor in front of me glowed under the brilliant golden light of my eyes, and my senses peaked beyond belief. I could almost see the incredibly intricate and deliberate web of magic that stretched throughout every inch of the castle in my mind's eye and as I breathed in, I could smell years' worth of scents, emotions, and magic. There were several particularly strong threads of magic that I assumed belonged to the witches or wizards in the castle with the most power, but I ignored those and focused deeper, pressing my cheek against the stone wall.

My heart, though beating at a normal pace, thundered in my ears and I reached out with my own magic, trying to connect to any residual magic my father may have left behind. After several long, tense minutes, my inner wolf perked up and began pacing around in my core. I inhaled deeply and my knees nearly buckled as my father's familiar woodsy scent filled my nostrils. My inner wolf yowled longingly, and I couldn't stop myself from taking off running in the direction, caution be damned. As I ran, I barely noticed that I slipped onto all fours and ran faster that way, only my father's scent on my mind. I was so close – yes, so close, I couldn't lose it!

My run took me to the far end of the seventh floor, well beyond where any current student or professor has gone – that much I could tell by scent and feel. My father's scent was stronger than ever here, and I crawled around on my hands and feet, my claws tapping against the ground, as I tried to pinpoint where it came from. It seemed like a normal, albeit incredibly dusty dead end corridor, with a dark alcove on the right corner. My senses pulled me towards the alcove, and I stood up straight, my hand on my wand as even my eyes could not penetrate the strange darkness there. I reached out, taking another slow step forward, and my hand disappeared beyond the shadows, coming in contact with something that felt like a painted canvas. I felt the magic on it, and knew that it had to be yet another essenced portrait, perhaps a guardian portrait like the Fat Lady for Gryffindor Tower. On impulse, I pressed the crest of my signet ring against the portrait and the shadows of the alcove became thinner, allowing my eyes to pierce them and soon, I was face to face with the canvas's inhabitant.

She was beyond beautiful, supernaturally so. Her pearly white hair glowed and swayed in such a way that any Veela would envy; her skin almost seemed to be made of slightly moving water, but her eyes – they were almost the same color as mine. She was sitting in the grass on the edge of a pond in the middle of a forest, a nearby waterfall crashing silently into the pond, sending ripples toward the girl. It was a breathtaking scene with its rich and natural colors, but the most eye-catching thing by far, was certainly the two large faery wings that protruded from the girl's bare back and shimmered a different palette every time the petite girl shifted.

When she looked at me, I felt as though my soul was bared for her to peruse at her leisure, and I found that I didn't quite enjoy feeling so vulnerable. My wolfish features faded, as did my senses, though they were still quite a bit more advanced than any humans'.

"It has been quite some time since my portrait has been discovered, young Lycan." The faery spoke softly, her voice lifting my very soul but also causing my inner wolf to take a cautious step back. Her lips curved up into a smirk, allowing two small fangs to poke out from under her lips. "But you are special, that much I can feel, even through this prison." With these words, her tone turned bitter and angry.

"Prison?" I asked, not '_Is this the entrance to East Tower?' _or '_Why is my father's scent covering this place?'_

She peered at me closely for a moment, before sighing and shaking her head. "You are incredibly strong indeed, but you are not ready."

My eyebrow rose. "Ready for what?"

She shook her head. "Put it out of your mind, young Lycan, you will know when it's time. However, you have not come to hear riddles, I presume? What is your business here?"

Thoroughly confused, but unwilling to call the slightly unnerving faery on her change of topic, I shook my head and tried to get my whirling thoughts under control. "Err – my father…Redd Snow –" I watched the faery's face carefully, and right on cue, her eyes brightened.

"Ah," she said, her tone much friendlier and less ominous, "no more needs to be said, heir. Please, enter your new home." I watched a shiny black handle appear on the golden frame of her portrait, and grasped it, but paused before opening it.

"Wait… what – what's your name?" I asked softly.

The faery grinned, almost amused. "Isavéla."

Mind successfully blown, I hurried to open the portrait and slipped into the darkness beyond it. Focusing my magic, I sent out several large balls of wizard's light, one of the simplest pieces of magic pureblood parents teach their children in their earlier years, and inhaled the infinitely stronger smell of my father in the confined space of the staircase. To my surprise, there were no spider webs, mold, or other signs of age. In fact, the black marble steps seemed to have been polished recently, and I peered down at my reflection as I climbed them.

The staircase wound up in a spiral, and at the top of about twenty steps was a plain black door with my family's current crest on it. There was no doorknob but as I gently placed my fingers against the wooden door, it swung open without a sound. Sending out more balls of light, I grinned at the transformed common room that more resembled a forest than the inside of a castle. Every wall seemed to be a picture of a forest at night, in the middle of fall, only I could hear the sounds of nature, smell the trees and animals, and feel the slight breeze that actually rustled the trees and bushes. The furniture was all modern, and set tastefully with warm autumn colors. The only break in the forest scene was a large window that looked up perfectly at the moon. As I stepped farther into the common room, the large fireplace on the wall to my right burst to life, and soon, I was bathed in the warmth of the fire. I couldn't resist touching the walls, only to be slightly disappointed that I felt the wall.

"It must be enchanted, like the Great Hall ceiling." I muttered. Looking around, I saw the same two doors that were in the Gryffindor common room, and I knew these led to the boys' and girls' dorm. Pausing, I wondered if my father had left anything in either of these rooms. The force of a yawn damn near cracked my jaw, and I sighed. I'd look around more tomorrow, after class. I opened the door to the girls' dorm and climbed up the staircase that led to a long hallway with doors on either side. As I examined the doors, I noticed a number on each one, starting with 1 and continuing on to the number 7. I assumed that these represented the year for each dorm, and decided on the seventh year dorm.

Opening the door, I was blown away by the interior. It was decorated much the same as the common room, including the ceiling, which displayed the moon overhead. I felt no power coming to me from it, and sighed in relief. I didn't need to resist losing control while I slept. There was a chaise lounge pushed beneath the large window, and other bits of furniture around the room, but what immediately drew my attention was the giant bed that could easily fit six or seven full sized adults. Its huge pillows and clearly expensive bedding called to me, as did the shimmery black canopy that hung over the bed, but I forced myself to look away and continued looking around.

There were double doors that led to a monstrous sized walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity, and wardrobes, shelves, and drawers built into the walls, just itching to be filled with my things. Leaving the closet reluctantly, I opened the other door in the room that led to a bathroom that brought a smile to my lips. Every surface – the floors, walls, ceiling, and even the inside of a pool-sized bath – was made of shiny obsidian. A window allowed moonlight to shine directly on the bathtub, and there was another vanity next to the double sink. Next to a shower stall with a frosted sliding glass door, was a rack of fluffy black towels and of those spongy objects some people used to wash with.

I fought with myself, trying to decide if I wanted to take a nice, long hot bath right then, or simply shower in the morning. But my tiredness won out, and I left the bathroom and returned to my new bedroom. I dropped my bag on the nightstand beside my bed and quickly set my alarm for the next morning, before stripping down to my underclothes and pulling back the comfortable that felt better than pure silk, all black, though the pillows were silver. The second my body sank into the soft mattress, I felt my exhaustion take over, and I was deeply asleep within seconds.


	7. Dangers (Re-Written)

_Previous Chapter:_

_I fought with myself, trying to decide if I wanted to take a nice, long hot bath right then, or simply shower in the morning. But my tiredness won out, and I left the bathroom and returned to my new bedroom. I dropped my bag on the nightstand beside my bed and quickly set my alarm for the next morning, before stripping down to my underclothes and pulling back the comfortable that felt better than pure silk, all black, though the pillows were silver. The second my body sank into the soft mattress, I felt my exhaustion take over, and I was deeply asleep within seconds._

**Chapter Seven: Dangers**

"_**You must keep your emotions in check. The moment you lose control of them, you lose the fight every time."**_

The most delicious liquid filled my mouth, and I swallowed it greedily, this raw hunger in my stomach roaring for more. My fangs were fully extended as were my claws as I grasped whatever it was that released such sweet nectar. There was nothing to compare it to, for nothing on this mortal earth could have my entire body screaming at me to consume more, _more!_ With a growl, I bit down harder and furiously shook my head from side to side as the sponge-like object ran dry. Anger and hunger raged within me, and a vicious howl ripped forth from my throat and echoed off of my surroundings back to me. Such a bloodthirsty and terrifying sound startled me, and my brain cleared of its lusty haze. I opened my eyes, confused as to why my mouth was filled with what seemed to be brown feathers. Flexing my fingers, I realized they were wrapped around a distorted and twisted form, and as my heart's pounding stopped exploding in my head and my inner wolf settled, true realization dawned and I dropped the now bloodless, torn, and broken body of an owl.

Horror, shock, and confusion were just some of the emotions waging war in my head, but what frightened me most, was the desire for more – more blood, more meat. My entire body shook and I crawled backwards and away from the dead owl so frantically that I dropped right off of the edge of my bed and crashed onto the cold, marble floor. What terrified me most was the fact that the reddish tinge that had always colored my amber eyes had grown and glowed bright scarlet now, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't force down the bloodlust raging through my body. Standing up, I stumbled slightly as I tried to calm my whirling thoughts, and even though I was in a scattered state of mind, I briefly wondered how I had gotten ahold of an owl in the first place. Reluctantly, I jerked my eyes back towards the grotesque figure on my bed and noticed the letter in its beak.

Oh sweet Merlin, I had killed someone's post owl.

My body still trembling, I crept forward as if the dead creature would burst into a deadly rage and attack me for killing it in cold blood, but it didn't, and I gently pried the now bloody envelope from the crushed body. I recognized the crest on it as belonging to Gringotts bank.

"Shit, Gnarlkin is going to…" but my words trailed off as the blood on the envelope rubbed off on my fingers. My vision went black, and I was only brought back to reality as my alarm shrieked to life and startled me. I spit out my fingers, which I had apparently been desperately sucking the blood from and nearly dropped the envelope in horror. What the hell was happening to me? Sure, I had an unnatural hunger for rare meat most of the time, but it had never controlled me in such a way that it did now, and I certainly had never eaten a living animal before.

"It's not like I'm a newly turned Lycan either…I shouldn't have such bloodlust." I muttered.

Trying to rationalize my crazed behavior allowed me to calm down and think clearly. Gnarlkin only wrote me once a month to show me the state of my accounts, but only at the end of every month. The fact that he'd sent me a letter today, especially since I'd recently spoken with him at Gringotts the day before the World Cup did nothing to ease my nerves, nor did the fact that the note was hasty scrawled, instead of written in Gnarlkin's impeccable handwriting.

"…_come to my attention, Lady Snow, that on the night of September 1__st__, 1994, an unknown presence attempted to forcefully enter your new residence in the community now known as Opulence Alley…"_

…_wards kept the intruder out, but we would recommend…"_

"…_any questions or concerns…"_

The letter dropped to the floor and I sank to my knees, grasping my head in my hands – too stunned to even utter the scream I desperately wanted to release. No one besides a few people even knew where I lived—

My eyes popped.

"No…" I breathed.

I had told the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione that I had moved into that new alley in order to be more interactive with the world. But…they wouldn't know exactly which house I lived in, and I was reluctant to blame any of those kind people anyway, people that had drawn me into their tightknit circle of family and friendship so quickly and warmly. My inner wolf snorted in disgust, mentally conveying that I was getting soft.

"Oh, I wish you would shut up!" I snapped. She huffed again, more agitatedly this time. "And I suppose you have a better list of suspects then?" When she didn't respond, I rolled my eyes. "Thought so."

Thoroughly annoyed and wound up, I finally snarled and smashed my still shrieking alarm clock underneath my bare foot, not even feeling pain as it was crushed beyond repair. Without a backward glance, I stormed into my bathroom and waved my hand, wandlessly starting the shower before stripping out of my underclothes. I had lost about ten minutes, and now I needed to hurry if I wanted to be down in the Great Hall with enough time for breakfast.

"Gee, this is a wonderful start to my first official day of school." I drawled sarcastically, as I stepped into the shower and closed the frosted glass door. As soon as the scalding hot water cascaded down my naked body, I felt myself relax automatically. I leaned my head against the icy black marble wall as the steam rose and began heating up my cold body. My mind was still racing, but I knew I couldn't give this new event all of my attention. I needed to focus on starting off on the right foot in all of my lessons, and I couldn't let anything distract me. Both of my parents, and my paternal grandparents had all been top students at Hogwarts, prefects, Head Boys and Girls….no, I couldn't disappoint them.

Breathing deeply, I slowly slipped behind my Occlumency barriers and felt my mind clear blissfully, allowing me to sort through my thoughts carefully as I lathered up my body. I had to shower quickly, and used a spell to dry instead of air-drying as I usually would. I hurried to wrap myself in one of those delightfully fluffy black towels, walked back into my bedroom and froze, noting the absence of the dead owl and how the envelope and letter from Gringotts were both clean of blood and tucked neatly on my nightstand, beside my bag. Shaking my head, I assumed that it had been a school elf, as Prim would've stayed to greet me. Hurrying into my walk-in closet, I was amazed to see all of my things put away in their rightful places and breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to rummage through my trunk.

Dressing quickly, I used a spell to pull my hair back into a long braid that hung down my back, allowing soft curls to frame my face. Slinging my school bag over my shoulder, I quickly went through a mental list in my mind, making sure that I had everything I needed to face my first school day, and I was surprised to feel that unfamiliar nervousness in my gut. Sighing, I left my room and nearly ran down the hallway to the door that led back into the common room. The previous night it had been illuminated by moonlight, but now the entire common room was lighted naturally by the morning sun shone in the enchanted forest walls. Though I wanted to take a moment to admire such magic, I cut straight through the center of the common room and skipped several steps down to Isavéla's portrait. I called a good morning and goodbye over my shoulder as I darted down the corridor.

Now that it was morning and other students were bound to be in the corridors, I waited until the coast was clear before slipping into the main corridors and headed towards the main staircase, vowing to put up wards when I had time. Once on the main staircase, I was surrounded by hundreds of other students also on their way down to breakfast and I relaxed, realizing that I couldn't possibly be that behind schedule. Instead of pushing the loud chatter in the corridors back into a dull buzz, I embraced it and allowed it to distract me as I forcefully calmed myself. Because my sensitive hearing could pick up many conversations at once, I realized that I was the topic for most of them. There were male voices, usually talking to other males, wondering how easy I was, in awe at my beauty and grace, and of course, the verbal sexualizing of my body. These were joined by the females quietly voicing their own speculations, envy, and appreciation. Amongst it all was, of course, the story of my parents' murders being spread to those not already in the know. Rumors about that tragedy, as well as my family's standing and power, quickly built up a near superhuman image of me in their eyes before I even made it to the first floor.

Briefly glancing up, it was almost unnerving to have so many pairs of eyes on me, having lived with only two for the past nine years. And those eyes, belonging to my faithful house-elf Prim, didn't carry one ounce of the judgment that these eyes did. It was sad to know that I couldn't truly be myself here either, when I so dearly wanted a fresh start, but as always, I brought up my icy mask and rigid posture, walking with such grace and radiating pureblood upbringing just before entering the halfway full Great Hall. The chatter and noise in the Hall seemed to lull for a split second, before returning full force. Only now did I force it to the edge of my hearing, now becoming a dull buzz – background noise.

I sat at the Gryffindor Table in the same place as I had the previous night, between Harry and Neville, across from Ron and Hermione. I said nothing as I piled my plate high with as much meat as I could possibly reach, not even thanking Neville as he numbly handed me a platter of pork sausages, even though I already had two different kinds on my plate, though now it was more like a meat platter. I squeezed potatoes, eggs, toast, and pancakes on the edge and filled two goblets – one with coffee and the other with milk, before digging in. There was complete silence at the Gryffindor Table as every single one of them stared at me with wonder, amazement, and shock as I quickly began devouring everything on my plate.

"Err – Izzy –"

"What?" I snarled, softening as Harry flinched and quickly masked the hurt in his eyes. Swallowing another giant mouthful of various meats, I washed it down with milk and wiped my mouth. I looked around, noting that I was still being gawked at. "That's rude you know!" I snapped, causing the spectators to hurriedly look away, only peeking at me in their peripheral vision. With a sigh, I looked at my four friends, one of them being like a brother to me, and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry guys…I'm just – under a lot of stress at the moment, and I'm not a morning person at all."

That second part was particularly true, however. Though I was incredibly powerful for a young Lycan, I still felt the difference in my power now and at night. Hermione was the first to break the silence, and reached across the table to pat my hand understandingly. "Don't worry about it Izzy, we've all been there."

I smiled more genuinely at the honey haired girl and wondered at how I could've ever suspected her for being involved with the news Gnarlkin had brought to my attention. The reminder of my gruesome murder forced me to resume stuffing my mouth with food until my plate was clean, and both goblets had been gulped down and refilled at least three times. When I felt as though I had satisfied my hunger enough to ignore the faint lingering in my stomach, I apologized to Harry again and pulled Neville into a proper hug.

"I don't suppose you've gotten our schedules already?" I asked Hermione.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and reached into her bag, withdrawing a parchment and handed it to me. "Actually, Professor McGonagall already handed out our schedule, that's yours."

I slowly munched through a warm croissant as I read through my schedule for the year, and I had to say that I was pleased with how it turned out. Noting that my first class directly after breakfast was Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, I glanced over my shoulder and scanned the table, my eyes resting on Cedric's tall and confident figure. He was facing the Gryffindor Table, and he must've felt my eyes on him because he paused in his obviously amusing conversation and met my gaze, a brilliant smile gracing his face and instantly lifting my mood. He raised a hand in a wave, causing damn near the entire Hufflepuff table to look my way, but I ignored this and waved back. My ears twitched as whispers amongst the Badgers' table rose again, and I huffed, turning back to my friends.

"Izzy?" Hermione's tentative voice said, breaking through my new, more agitated, train of thought. I looked up at her and recognized that already familiar look on her face that meant she had a question, but was unsure whether she should ask or not.

"Yes?" I said, gesturing for her to spit it out.

"Err – I don't mean to come off as nosy, not at all, but I was wondering what those Self-Study periods mean?" She asked, then blushed furiously. "Not – not that I was memorizing your schedule or anything! I just – wanted – to know if – if we had classes together…"

"Well," I began, speaking softly enough so that only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville could hear. "When I looked over the electives list, I didn't see anything on there that I hadn't already mastered beyond OWL level or couldn't learn quicker on my own than I could learn it in a classroom, and so I brought this issue to Dumbledore. He was quite amazed actually, and impressed, but suggested that he allow me to use those time slots to continue my own personal training, which is why they're named _Self-Study_."

"So what do you train in?" Ron asked.

"That's a bit more personal Ron, sorry." I said unapologetically.

Harry sighed. "Merlin I wish I had time like that, Izzy. Instead, I'm stuck with," he glanced at his schedule and groaned, "double divination this afternoon."

"If you had dropped it like I did…" Hermione trailed off pointedly.

"Yeah, well I didn't expect to have my death predicted every class by that fraud!" Harry hissed quietly.

"What?" I said quickly.

"The professor," Harry explained, "Trelawney – every time we have class up in that overly perfumed classroom, she predicts yet another gruesome way that I'll die. Half of them aren't even possible in this world!"

"Harry, Divination can't be taught unless you have the Gift. I don't know what Dumbledore's thinking, adding that class." I frowned. "It wasn't a class a few decades ago, before Dumbledore was Headmaster."

"Well, now I'm stuck with it. It's too late to catch up in Arithmacy or Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies is useless to me since I grew up in the muggle world, but I need at least two electives." He bemoaned.

"What's your other elective?" I prompted.

"Care of Magical Creatures," he answered, a small smile on his face, "which we have after Herbology."

I had a decision to make, but as I looked into Harry's bright eyes, I knew what I would choose. "Harry," I said quietly, and he leaned towards me, "Go to Divination today, and I'll see what I can do about getting you to join me with Self-Study, okay?"

His eyes widened. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," I said, as if it should be obvious, "remember what we talked about on the train?"

"_I should've been more prepared when I came into this world, I should've changed my circumstances, but –" he shrugged, "I can't go back and change that. What I can do, however, is try and start to do that now, if – if you'd be willing to help?"_

_I stared at him, amazement peeking through my usual carefully constructed expressions. "You – you're certainly more than I gave you credit for, Harry. But as for your request, I'd be glad to help…"_

Harry nodded firmly. "Then –

"…bright idea was it to put us in the same class as those slimy bastards, and all within the range of dangerous animals! That's like _begging _for an _accident_ to happen!" Ron growled, drowning out Harry's words.

"Ron, what are you going on about?" Harry said, almost amusedly.

"We've got Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins!" he spat, pointing angrily at his schedule.

Shit.

Slytherins meant Draco…

And Draco meant trouble.

"You know," Ron continued, waving his fork as if to make a point, though it still had a bit of pancake on it, "I'd rather endure the possibility of being almost burned, frozen, bitten, scratched, clawed, maimed, or eaten by one of Hagrid's little _pets_ than having class with those _snakes_."

"Oh come on," I said, "they can't _all_ be that bad, can they?"

Immediately, I knew I had said the wrong thing as the four of them, even Hermione, stared at me as though I had grown a second head.

"Oh you'll see Izzy," Ron muttered darkly. "You'll see."

At that moment, however, the only thing I saw was over a hundred owls swooping into the Great Hall from the open windows above us. I caught no sight of my black owl, Ario, but seeing all of those owls only served to remind me of my mishap that morning. Overwhelmed, I grabbed my bag and abruptly stood up, startling the four. "Err – I need some air. I'll – I'll see you guys outside for class."

Without waiting for a response, I speed walked with as much dignity as I could, and then broke into a run when I entered the entrance hall. I was at the bottom step when I heard someone call my name. I froze, recognizing that voice. I dreaded coming face to face with my childhood friend, but sure enough, as I slowly turned around, I saw Draco hurrying down the stone steps towards me. To say that I was beyond shocked as Draco pulled me into a tight hug was the understatement of the century. But before I could even register this act, he quickly let go and gently grasped my forearms, staring me directly in the eye.

"Izzy," he said, and I trembled the slightest bit as I heard the raw desperation in his voice, "please, I know you have no reason to stand here and listen to what I have to say, especially after the way I've acted recently…but please, I don't know what else to do."

When I didn't respond, speaking completely beyond my capabilities at the moment, he sighed and continued. "Look, it's too much to explain right now," we both flinched as the bell rang, signaling the ending of breakfast, "but – just meet me here twenty minutes after dinner ends, tonight." His words were hurried as we heard hundreds of footsteps about to leave the Great Hall. "Please Izzy, you're my…you're my last hope. If you don't come…I'll know that you want nothing to do with me ever again."

"Malfoy, what the hell are you doing? Let go of her!" Ron shouted from the top of the staircase. He, Harry, and Hermione all had their wands out, and were glaring daggers at the blonde boy. He looked at me once more, before that familiar icy demeanor went back up full force. He dropped my arms and turned back towards the stairs, walking past the trio with nothing more than a look of disgust and an upturn of his chin, showing that they were beneath him.

"Izzy, are you okay?" Harry said, running down the stairs and coming to standing in front of me. "What did Malfoy do to you? You're all pale – and you're shaking!"

I stared at the unfamiliar black-haired boy in front of me, wondering what had caused such distress on his face, but these thoughts were abruptly silenced as my world went black.

_{ Page Break }_

"...that blonde ponce!"

"…shut up, Ronald!"

"...swear by Merlin, if you two wake her up!"

"The three of you will cease this noise or I'll throw you out!"

Attempting to open my eyes and tear a new one into all involved in causing my massive headache, I was instantly blinded by white light and clenched my eyes shut, rolling over and pressing my face into a stiff pillow that smelled like a Healer's office. The four voices that had been arguing over my head fell silent at once, and I felt five, not four, pairs of eyes on me. Inhaling deeply, I smelled four familiar scents: Harry, Hermione, Ron, and…Dumbledore. The fifth scent, which I assumed belonged to the stern woman that had threatened to kick the trio out, was completely foreign to me.

"I've dimmed the lights miss, now can you please turn over so that I may run some diagnostic spells over you?" the woman's voice asked, more calmly and patient this time.

Slowly, I rolled back onto my back and upon noticing the less intense light overhead, I peeked open my eyes and pushed myself into sitting position, leaning back on the mountain of pillows behind me.

_White._

White walls.

White ceiling.

White linen on the beds.

The smell of healing potions and disinfectant was much more pronounced now that I didn't have my nose pressed into a pillow, and I realized that I must be in the Hospital Wing in Hogwarts. Looking around, I saw that Harry was in a chair on the left side of my bed. He'd been holding my hand before I sat up. Dumbledore was seated on the edge of the bed behind Harry. On my right, Hermione and Ron were also sitting in chairs, and a woman that was now obviously the matron here stood beside my pillow. I tensed as the witch pointed her wand at me, but allowed her to mutter standard Healer spells over me, causing various parts of my body to glow different colors. Some were familiar – the gold that somewhat matched my eyes but one was completely unknown to me – the swirling black – and apparently to the matron as well, judging by the creasing of her forehead.

"I am Madam Pomfrey, dear," the woman said when she'd finished, "the resident Healer here at Hogwarts. Now, do you mind answering a few questions so that I can determine if your head injury has damaged your memory?"

"Head – injury?" I gasped out, my hands automatically coming up to my head, only to come in contact with a white bandage wrapped around it. "How –?"

"You mean you don't remember what happened?" Hermione asked, concern clear in her cinnamon eyes.

"No, so someone please feel free to clue me in." I said, impatience leaking into my voice. Waking up in the Hospital Wing with a head injury that I didn't even remember acquiring wasn't exactly going a long way in making me a happy camper.

"Please answer Madam Pomfrey's question first my dear, and then you shall have your explanation." Dumbledore said calmly, his eyes twinkling as bright as ever. As I met his gaze, I felt my inner wolf jump to attention and snarl at an unknown threat. Making the connection, I broke eye contact with the old man and turned back to Madam Pomfrey, my facial not changing a bit even though outrage began mixing with my annoyance.

"Fine." I bit out.

"What is your full name?" She asked calmly, holding a clipboard with her quill poised over it.

"Isavéla Jordan Snow." I answered promptly.

"Date of birth?"

"December 31st, 1979."

It could only be someone with my sensitive hearing that could pick up Dumbledore's heart skipping a beat as I announced my birthday.

How odd.

"Name of both parents?"

"Redd Jordan Snow and Ilya Alice Silvano-Snow."

Now Hermione's heart joined Dumbledore's in a race, but whilst Dumbledore's face remained impassive, Hermione looked down, but not so quickly that I didn't catch the shock and disbelief on it.

What the hell was going on?

"Alright very good, you're memory seems to be fine if you can remember those details." Madam Pomfrey decided.

"Now, can someone please tell me how I ended up in here with a head injury?" I said quickly, looking around at the trio.

"Well…" Harry began uneasily.

"We saw Malfoy do something to you, and when he left, you passed out and hit your head on one of the steps. Blood _everywhere_." Ron said bluntly.

Hermione cuffed Ron on the back of the head, and both she and Harry gave him such venomous looks he didn't even protest. "Sorry." He muttered.

"Please excuse Ron's lack of tact, Izzy." Hermione said more gently, shooting Ron another annoyed look. "What he means to say is that, when the owls arrived this morning to deliver the post, you hurried out of the Great Hall, telling us that you needed air. Do you remember that?"

Concentrating on digging through my own mental barriers, the image Hermione described became clear, but also brought back the events of early this morning as well. I had to remember to send Gnarlkin an apology letter. But in response to Hermione, I nodded slowly, my head still pounding.

"We were worried about you," Harry continued, "but we wanted to give you space, you know? You said you were really stressed and we didn't want to further overwhelm you. But when the bell rang at the end of breakfast, we found you in the entrance hall and…"

"I'm not saying Malfoy did anything," Hermione said quickly, "but…it did look suspicious Izzy. He was holding your arms, and you looked really pale. When he let go and left, Harry walked up to you and asked you if you were alright. You had this rather confused look on your face, and then – then your eyes rolled up into your head and you passed out." She took a deep breath, and I knew she was shaken. I could smell the residue of horror and shock on her. "Oh Izzy…you did hit your head on one of the steps. None of us expected you to pass out, so we didn't react fast enough to catch you. It was horrible. There was – was so much – blood…" she broke off and hurried to wipe the tears glistening in her eyes.

I said nothing as I tried to remember all of this. Owls – Draco – Fainting – Blood.

Finally, the memories crashed into my head and I gasped, clutching my head and leaning forward. All five people abruptly took steps toward me, and I felt my fangs slip out in defense. "Stop!" I growled, clamping my eyes shut before the glow could begin. "Everybody back up and give me a minute."

I heard their compliance, and now all five of their heartbeats were quickening, the sound doing nothing to help push down the sudden thirst that ravaged my thirst. After several silent minutes, with surprising help from my inner wolf, I was able to force it back and calm down enough to get my fangs to retract and stop the glow in my eyes. When I felt as though I had myself under control, I sat up straight again and saw the expressions on all of their faces.

"How long have I been out of it?" I asked suddenly.

"You missed the entire day Izzy, it's the middle of dinner now." Hermione said tentatively.

"What?" I exclaimed. "I missed my first lessons? I'm already behind, oh, now I'll have to catch up! I –"

"Miss Snow, please calm yourself." Dumbledore said calmly, but there was a subtle hint of authority in his voice. "I have already spoken with Professors Sprout and Hagrid, and both have agreed to excuse you, with no effect on your grade at all."

I had to take several deep breaths to calm down again, and I worried at how unraveled I was after only two days here at Hogwarts.

What did that say about the rest of the year?

"Thank you professor," I said, gratefully. Then, I looked around at the trio. "You three missed dinner to come wait for me to wake up?"

"Well yeah…" Harry said, blushing slightly. "We had to attend class, but we've been up here during every break and even had lunch up here, in case you woke up."

To say I was touched didn't even come close to how I felt. At that moment, however, my stomach growled with immense force and my cheeks flushed. Right then, Dumbledore stood up.

"I shall send a house-elf to bring you four dinner," he said, walking around my bed towards the door. "However, if Madam Pomfrey permits it, I would like you, Miss Snow, to meet me in my office when you are done."

Confused and wary, I nodded. "Yes sir, and thank you again."

"Think nothing of it, my dear. Feel better." And with that, he swept out of the Hospital Wing and closed the doors behind him.

"After dinner, you may go meet the Headmaster, and you may return to your dormitory. You do show signs of high levels of stress dear, do take it easy from now on." Madam Pomfrey advised as she carefully removed the bandage from around my head and felt around to make sure I was completely healed. "However, I would like you to return tomorrow before breakfast so that I can check on you, just to be sure."

"Yes ma'am." I agreed respectfully. Just as Madam Pomfrey disappeared into her office, an unfamiliar house-elf popped onto my bed, carrying a large tray with four plates filled with steaming food, and four goblets filled with pumpkin juice. "Thank you." I said, smiling softly at the house-elf, causing her to blush, bow, and pop away.

As we each grabbed a plate and goblet, I looked around. "So, what else have I missed today, besides lessons?" The loaded glance the trio exchanged let me know that it must've been a lot. "Well?" I prompted after another minute of silence. Seven minutes and a long story later and I was pondering this new development in my thoughts of over Draco, keeping in mind, of course, his desperate plea for help.

"And you say Moody turned him into a ferret?" I said, trying to picture it. Draco's pride was one of his biggest faults, and I knew that he must've been humiliated. I felt bad for the blonde boy, and as dinner ended, I remembered that I was supposed to meet him in twenty minutes. Hopefully, this meeting with Dumbledore wouldn't take long. "Do any of you know where Dumbledore's office is?" I asked as I slid off the bed and into my dragon-hide boots. My skin was surprisingly cold and so I pulled on my black robe as well.

"Yeah, we'll walk you." Harry offered, looking at Hermione and Ron for confirmation. When the two of them nodded, we headed toward the door.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey!" I called towards the door to her office, before the four of us left and headed to the main staircase. As we journeyed up to Dumbledore's office, Harry, Ron, and Hermione described both classes, including Malfoy's behavior during Care of Magical Creatures.

"Here we are," Harry said, as we stopped in front of a stone gargoyle on the third floor. "Though he'll only move aside if you've got the right password."

Rolling my eyes, I stepped toward the gargoyle and peered at its unmoving eyes. "Err – Isavéla Snow, here by request of the Headmaster?"

A pause…and then the gargoyle leapt to the side, revealing a spiraling staircase.

"Wow, I didn't know I could just announce myself, would've saved a load of bloody time..." Harry grumbled, before shaking his head. "Do you want us to wait for you?"

"No thanks," I said, "I don't know how long this'll take and I wouldn't want you caught out after curfew. Go on to bed."

"Well if you're sure…goodnight Izzy." Harry said, his words echoed by Hermione and Ron, before the three turned around and headed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. I stepped onto the first step, and was surprised as it jerked to life, and began slowly winding upwards.

"Moving staircase…interesting." I muttered. A few minutes later, I was brought to a stop in front of a wooden door. As I raised my hand to knock, I heard Dumbledore's voice tell me to come in. Figuring that he had monitoring wards put up to alert him to visitors, I placed my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and stepped into the Headmaster's office for the first time.

It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of rich colors and odd little noises. A number of unfamiliar silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were pretending to snooze in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tainted wizard's hat – the Sorting Hat. I was briefly taken back to the night before when that very same Hat had decided my fate for my remaining time at Hogwarts, but my attention was captured by the magnificent bird standing on a polished wooden perch. The feathers on its body were crimson and its golden tail was as long as a peacock's. Its claws and beak were gleaming gold and its eyes were black. Its scarlet body feathers glowed faintly in the dimmed lighting of Dumbledore's office and as I stepped further inside, it made eye contact with me. Mesmerized, I slowly walked forward even as my inner wolf stood at attention, and once I was about two feet from the bird, I felt gentle warmness wash over my cold skin. On impulse, I cautiously reached out and stroked its surprisingly warm feathers that felt softer than the finest silk. As soon as my skin touched its feathers, I felt the most euphoric peacefulness overcome me and soon, all of my worries that had plagued me these past few days faded away and I felt as though my very soul had been uplifted.

"I must say I'm astounded Miss Snow," a voice from behind said calmly.

Reluctantly, I dragged my eyes away from the beautiful bird to look at the tall figure seated at the enormous desk – Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Is this really a phoenix, sir?" I said, amazement coloring my voice.

"Yes indeed he is, Miss Snow. Fawkes has been my familiar for many, many years now. And it's very rare for him to allow a stranger to come close to him, let alone pet him as you have. It usually shows that that person is pure of heart." Dumbledore said fondly, his eyes twinkling bright as ever.

"Wow," I breathed. "I know they're incredibly rare and powerful, but to have one choose you as its companion is simply amazing. He's a beautiful creature, sir, truly."

Fawkes seemed to appreciate my compliments and trilled softly, renewing that euphoric peacefulness that I had felt only minutes ago. Stroking his feathers a few seconds more, I reluctantly stepped away from him, sighing sadly as I no longer felt the peacefulness and warmth.

"Please my dear, take a seat. Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered, holding out a small crystal bowl filled with round, yellow candies. Slightly amused and now wary, I politely declined and took the offered seat.

"May I ask why you wanted to meet with me, sir?" I said immediately, no point in beating around the bush.

"Yes, a few points of interest that I would like to discuss with you, Miss Snow." He said calmly, his hands neatly folded and resting on top of his desk. "First, it has come to my attention that you did not sleep in your House dormitory last night after the feast."

Ah, so this was an interrogation. Wonderful. Pulling up my Occlumency barriers full force, I leaned back in my seat and gracefully crossed one leg over the other. "You are correct sir, I did not." I said calmly, deliberately being vague.

Dumbledore's eyebrow twitched, perhaps he had expected me to start confessing immediately. Not a chance, old man. "Would you care to explain where you were then, Miss Snow? You should know that it is against the rules here to be outside of your common room after curfew."

"Professor," I said, shifting gears, "how well do you know the history of this fine castle?"

Outwardly, Dumbledore showed no sign that he was caught off guard by my seemingly random question, but I felt the change in his pulse. "I know the history of Hogwarts quite thoroughly, Miss Snow. I have been Headmaster for a very long time, and Transfiguration professor before that."

"Very well, do you know the story of how this castle came to be built?" I continued.

"Miss Snow, I assure you I am well aware of the story of the Founders. Where is this line of questioning leading to?" Dumbledore asked, his grandfatherly mask never wavering.

"Then you should know that _my_ ancestor helped fund the building of this very castle, as well as the land it is built on and everything around it. Calius Snow asked for only one thing in return for his gold, do you know what that request was?" I asked, resisting the urge to grin like the cat that got the canary.

"A hidden place within the castle that would house only his descendants during their time at Hogwarts." Dumbledore answered easily. "But hundreds of highly skilled witches and wizards have scoured this entire castle, searching for such a place and it has never been found."

Hmm…perhaps I didn't need to put up wards after all.

"Professor, just because something can't be found, doesn't mean it isn't there. But, to put your mind at ease, I am, in fact, residing in that place and will continue to do so as long as I am a Hogwarts student. It is, after all, my right by birth." I said, my lip twitching and my inner wolf howling with laughter as I successfully out-maneuvered Dumbledore at his own questioning game. "You said you had several points of interest sir, may I ask what the others are?"

"It is getting late my dear, and you should be resting. However, I would like to ask you one last question before I bid you adieu." Dumbledore said simply.

"Very well, sir."

"Are you aware that you have the same date of birth as Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked carefully. Instantly, I knew that this question was more about my reaction to hearing the name, rather than the actual information.

_Lie,_ my inner wolf seemed to huff.

Simply raising an eyebrow, I said, "That is very interesting sir, but no, I was not already aware."

"Very well, Miss Snow. Do head straight to your…residence, and goodnight to you." He said easily, his eyes twinkling once more.

"Goodnight to you as well, sir." I said, curtsying as I stood up from my seat. I didn't say or do anything out of the ordinary until I was back on the main staircase, where I pulled out my mind and cast a few spells.

"That wrinkly old son of a bitch!" I growled, as my spells revealed that Dumbledore had somehow put tracking spells on me. "Fine, two can play at that game." With a dark grin, I conjured a cat and transferred the tracking spells onto it, before compelling it to head straight to the Gryffindor Tower. Checking myself over one more time, I checked the time and cursed. It was already midnight!

Gathering my surroundings, I hurried back down the stairs on silent feet, slipping into the shadows as I re-entered the corridors. I headed down to the entrance hall as quickly as I could, tiptoeing past the open Great Hall, only to pause. It was quite a difference to see the Great Hall at night, illuminated not by thousands of candles, but by moonlight. Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I nearly ran to the entrance hall and paused at the top of the staircase overlooking it.

"Damn…" I sighed, clenching my fist as Draco was nowhere in sight. This had probably been my last chance to solve this mystery surrounding Draco, and I'd blown it. I smelled him strongly here though, and figured he must've left only a moment ago. He probably felt abandoned and thought I hated him. And though I was upset with this new Draco, I could never hate him. Angry at myself, I turned to go back up to East Tower.

"I thought you weren't going to show up." Draco whispered, stepping out from behind a suit of armor. His white-blonde hair was clearly visible especially in the dark, and he was still dressed in his school uniform. Hands in his pocket, he walked closer to me and I could see the wide range of emotion in his stormy-grey eyes.

I turned to face him, still amazed at how much he'd physically changed in nine years. Forcing myself not to stare, I cleared my throat. "Of course I was going to show up, Draco. I had to find out why you're acting like your father's evil twin all of a sudden." I said quietly.

Shame written all over his face, Draco looked down. "You don't understand Izzy." He whispered, not looking at me. Slowly, I walked towards him until were only a few inches apart. I reached out and gently lifted his chin until he was forced to look me directly in the eye.

"Then help me understand Dray, because this isn't the boy I use to know."

Draco pulled his face out of my hand, and his eyes flared angrily. "That little boy is gone, Izzy, and he's never coming back. He can't…" his voice softened again and he shook his head. "Not after…"

I heard Draco take a deep shuddering breath, and suddenly pulled the taller boy to me, wrapping my arms firmly around his waist. He stiffened. "After what, Dray? You know you can tell me anything."

Slowly, very slowly, he brought his arms up and held onto me as if he were a drowning man, and I was his lifejacket. "You remember how father was when we were kids…" he began, and I shuddered remembering some of the older Malfoy's worst moments. "Well, after you disappeared, he got worse. A lot worse. Hell couldn't even begin to describe what it was like being trapped in the manor with him, and even Mother could no longer protect me."

I held him tighter as his body began trembling. "The things he said and did to us…I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, Izzy. I felt so weak and helpless when he…he raped Mother, and made me watch. I tried to help her, but Father – he put me under the Cruciatus curse, until I could barely breath."

I couldn't contain my gasp, and now, both of our heartbeats thundered in my ears. "Draco…"

"Merlin, she was screaming so loud, and he _laughed_ while he violated her. I was supposed to have a little sister, Izzy, but that bastard killed her when he raped Mother. He beat us both, almost daily…physically, magically. No matter what, I was never the heir he wanted me to be, I wasn't cold enough, strong enough, I didn't have the same anti-muggleborn mentality that Malfoys are supposed to have. He lectured me on all of the reasons why they were beneath purebloods, why we were the superior blood, as he beat me." Looking up, I saw that Draco's eyes were far, far away and I trembled as he spoke in such a haunted tone.

"It got worse once I came to Hogwarts. I tried so hard to be the best at everything, but I just never measured up. Granger was always top student in academics, Potter constantly bested me in Quidditch, I couldn't do anything right and Father made sure to punish me for it." Draco took a deep breath. "After the World Cup incident, when we'd returned home, he was drunk and so angry. I didn't know what had angered him, but he came and found me in my room, pissed out of his mind. He thought I was my mother, no matter how many times I tried to tell him that I was his son. He beat me first, for a long time, laughing all the while and calling me Narcissa. He told me how weak I was, how worthless I was…he told me how he'd been with other woman for years because my mother was an old cow that had run dry. Then he –" Draco's voice became shaky, and I didn't need him to continue for me to put two and two together.

Thoroughly horrified, I held Draco as tight as I could without hurting him with my Lycan strength, and a moment later, felt warm wetness dripping onto my shoulder. It was well beyond curfew, and we were standing out in the open. Any wandering ghost or professor would see us if they passed by. I couldn't leave Draco in this condition, and I didn't want to. Making a quick decision, I wrapped us in shadows, and we disappeared silently in wispy darkness.


	8. Lessons Of All Sorts (Rewritten)

**A/N: **_** I suppose I should've put this at the beginning of the first chapter, but I was so anxious to get it out there, it completely slipped my mind until now. First, let me say that I own NOTHING that you recognize; it all belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. Second, I would like to thank those who've already reviewed, giving me their thoughts and input. I do read each and every review several times even if it's only a few words. All reviews are greatly appreciated, no matter the length. I'd like to confess that very little planning has gone into this fic, and I am literally making up this story and events as I type it, but I have to say that I am truly beginning to like this one better than Grey Descent, though I may finish that one as well. I'm glad to see so many people enjoying this new fic as I wasn't sure what kind of reception it would receive, so I thank you, faithful readers. Enjoy!**_

_Previous Chapter:_

_Thoroughly horrified, I held Draco as tight as I could without hurting him with my Lycan strength, and a moment later, felt warm wetness dripping onto my shoulder. It was well beyond curfew, and we were standing out in the open. Any wandering ghost or professor would see us if they passed by. I couldn't leave Draco in this condition, and I didn't want to. Making a quick decision, I wrapped us in shadows, and we disappeared silently in wispy darkness._

**Chapter Eight: **_**Lessons of All Sorts**_

I awoke to the sweet scent of vanilla and honey shampoo in my face, and a heavy warm weight on the length of my body. Not liking the feeling of being pinned down, I forced the weight off of me and snuggled back into my comforter, only to jump up, wand at the ready, as I heard a loud bump and a yelp. Creeping around my bed slowly, I was stunned and confused to see Draco sprawled indignantly on the floor, hair ruffled, still in his school uniform. It took me a minute to understand why he was even in my room in East Tower, and I blushed, looking down.

"Sorry Dray, I didn't mean to toss you onto the floor." I said, wincing because I knew just how much it hurt to fall on the cold, marble floor.

"Don't," Draco grunted as he stood up, rubbing his sore bum, "worry about it." Looking up, his eyes fell on me and his pale face flushed brilliantly. He looked at everything except me, shifting awkwardly, until he finally took in our surroundings. His eyes widened with amazement and awe, and I watched him reach out to touch to the wall. "Wow, this room is beautiful." He breathed. "Where are we anyway? This can't possibly be how the bloody Gryffindors are living."

I snorted. "No, this is my humble abode, known only as East Tower."

"This is _the_ fabled East Tower? I didn't know it was an actual place, only a myth." Draco gasped, looking around with much more interest.

"Yes, I found it on the first night, after the feast. It's rather comfortable." I said calmly, now perching on the edge of my bed and watching Draco disappear into the bathroom and shout about how amazing it was. I couldn't help but smile as he returned to my bedroom.

"The Slytherin common room is nothing like this! No wonder everyone's tried to find this place." Draco muttered. I sighed and stood up, tapping him on the shoulder.

"We can't avoid what we talked about, Dray. That would defeat the purpose of you asking for my help in the first place." I said softly. He didn't say anything, but allowed me to pull him over to the window, where we curled up on the chaise lounge.

"I know…I know. I just – I don't know what to do. You know pureblood laws as well as I do. I can't break free from him on my own, and I won't leave my mother with him even if I could." Draco said quietly, staring out the window.

I thought for a moment. "Well, the only person who could free you without having to take this to the Wizengamot would have be the Head of the Black family. The Blacks are much older than the Malfoys, and you're half Black anyway. Who's head of the line?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's the thing though, no one knows who it is. My grandmother and grandfather both died years ago, but no one knows if they've left a will or not. If they didn't though, then the next in line is – is Sirius Black."

"Ah, I see the problem now. He can't properly take his place as Head because he's serving a life sentence in Azkaban. But didn't he escape last year?" I asked, vaguely remembering seeing Wanted posters on a trip to Diagon Alley.

"Yes, he's practically disappeared off the face of the earth since then." Draco growled.

I stared at Draco for a long time. "Are you sure that even if you find Black, he'll help you?"

Draco shrugged, a casual action that I'd never seen him do. "You know family means everything to most pureblood families, especially the darker ones. Mother says that while Black and Aunt Bella hated each other, she got along with him rather well when they were younger. He may help her if he knew what she was going through."

"Let me see if I understand this correctly…You and your mum have been prisoners in Malfoy Manor for the past nine years or so, no one to turn to, no way of escape. And so to try and appease your father, you're trying to emulate him, to be the kind of heir he wants you to be, but secretly, you probably hate him and would do anything to get you and your mum out from under his control. And the only way to do that is to somehow find and get the help of one of the most notorious mass murderers in the last century, who has, as you said, disappeared?" I said, taking a deep breath.

Draco stared at me. "Precisely."

I couldn't help but grin. "Then I think we've got ourselves an adventure."

Draco groaned dramatically. "Now I remember that you were always the reason we got in trouble at the Manor, with your crazy games and pranks. Bloody menace…"

"Come on Dray, you know you love me." I teased. "Unless you've replaced me with Pansy?"

We stared at each other, and both shuddered.

"How is the pug anyway?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Still as psycho and clingy as one might expect," Draco answered. "And probably driving everyone in the dungeons insane trying to figure out where I am."

"So…" I said slowly, unsure of why I felt a faint stab of _something_ in my gut, "are you two…together?"

"Oh Merlin's no!" Draco said, disgusted. I laughed, ignoring the relief I felt. "I'm still holding out on the hope that I can somehow break our marriage contract before it's sealed on my seventeenth birthday."

"June 5th, right?" I asked.

"You remembered?" Draco asked, something in his eyes.

"Of course I do," I checked the time and saw that had I not crushed my alarm clock the previous morning, it would be shrieking right now. "Time to get ready for class." I sighed.

"I dread going down to the dungeons, especially after being in such a wonderful place." Draco said longingly. "Pansy's bound to drive me up the wall."

I bit my lip. "You could prepare up here and head down to the Great Hall. I doubt she'll make a scene in there." I suggested.

"I would take you up on your offer, as the showers in the dungeons sporadically spout icy water, but all of my things are in my dorm." He countered.

I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. "Prim!" I called.

Immediately, my family house-elf popped in front of me and curtsied. "Mistress Isavéla, it is nice seeing you. What can Prim do for you?" she said happily, as I affectionately patted her head.

"Can you please, _discreetly_, enter the Slytherin fourth year boys' dorm and retrieve a fresh uniform for Draco, as well as any personal items he may need to prepare for the day?" I requested.

"It is being done." With a bow, Prim popped away.

I grinned. "There's a boys' dorm if you go out into the common room, or you could just use one of the other girls' showers. I haven't explored the other rooms yet, so I'm not sure exactly how they're set up." I suggested.

Draco seemed to consider his options. "I'll be next door in the sixth year dorm." He decided.

I nodded and headed into my bathroom, closing the door behind me. Starting the shower, I began to ponder this new situation that I found myself in. Not only had I agreed to help Draco find a man as dangerous as Sirius Black, but I'd also brought someone into my secret home. I doubted Draco would tell anyone, but who knew if Dumbledore couldn't pick it out of his mind during a meal? Speaking of meals, would we even acknowledge each other once we left East Tower?

"Much too early to be thinking this much…" I muttered as I stepped under the steamy spray. About twenty minutes later, I emerged from my bathroom and headed straight into my closet that I absolutely loved. I was still pondering my precarious friendship with Draco, when I finished dressing and fixed my hair into a braid again, once again allowing soft curls to frame my face. As I grabbed my bag, I hoped that Draco was ready.

Opening the door that led out into the hallway, I knocked loudly on the door with the number six on it, and opened it before pausing in amazement. The same way that my room was enchanted to look like a forest in the middle of autumn, this room was enchanted to replicate the sky. As I entered the room further, I felt as though I was surrounded by lazily drifting clouds and a nice breeze. The sun was high overhead, offering no warmth, and I wondered how this room looked at night, if the user would be surrounded by stars and the moon.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Draco said as he emerged from the walk-in closet, dressed in a crisp new uniform. He was fixing his green and silver tie, and I instantly noticed that while his hair was no longer dry from his shower, it wasn't slicked back as it had been the past two days.

"Your house-elf forgot to bring up my hair gel." Draco commented, noticing where I was looking.

"No, no," I said, walking forward and reaching up, "I like it better this way. You look much handsomer without that gunk in your beautiful hair. It takes away from its natural color and shine. It's a shame really, most girls would kill for this kind of hair." I murmured as I ran my fingers through his silky white-blonde hair. It was very slightly waved and I found myself styling it as I played in it. "There." I said, smiling.

I followed Draco into the empty walk-in closet and watched his expression as he looked into the mirror, but he obviously approved. "I find that I agree with your assessment."

I rolled my eyes. "Please kill the formal talk Dray, it's just the two of us."

He grimaced. "I know, old habits die hard and all that rot."

Suddenly, I felt somewhat shy as I tried to voice my concerns. "When we – when we leave here Draco, what's going to happen?"

Draco looked down at me and caressed my cheek with such gentleness, once again making me feel as though I were fine china. "I don't suppose my father would mind if we were friends again, but you run with Potter and his lot…"

"I don't have to hang out with all of you together Draco, I can split my time. And that reminds me, why is there so much animosity between you two?" I asked, as Draco picked up his bag and we headed down to the common room. He looked around as we passed through, clearly still amazed.

"Potter is an attention-seeking spoiled brat that gets everything he wants because Dumbledore and all of the professors here think the sun shines out of his –"

"Alright, alright, I get it." I said, cutting off his sudden rant and stopping him behind Isavéla's portrait. "But maybe if you talked to him Draco, you'd see that he's nothing like that at all."

Draco snorted. "I highly doubt that."

I looked away. "Who knows? Maybe the two of you are more alike than you think."

Rather than risk gaining unwanted attention, I shadowed Draco into a dark corner in the dungeons, making him promise not to say anything about my particular power, and returned up to East Tower, only to walk down again. A tedious process, but I was only trying to preserve my privacy and modesty. If it got out that I don't sleep in my dorm, and Draco was mysteriously out all night, the smaller minded people might put two and two together, and within a few hours, it'd be a rumor that we'd had a secret tryst in a dusty alcove.

I almost snorted at the image, but pulled up my emotionless mask as I entered the Great Hall. I started for the Gryffindor Table, when I felt someone gently grab my arm and spin me around. Suddenly, I found myself hugging Draco in the middle of the Great Hall, with shocked silence, wide eyes, and dropped jaws as our audience.

"I lost you as my friend once, I won't lost you again…image be damned." Draco whispered in my ear, before pulling back. "Good morning Izzy," he said a bit more loudly, even smiling, something that made quite a few girls swoon and some guys almost faint from shock. I suppose Draco didn't smile pleasantly too often, but as I saw his eyes genuinely brighten as he smiled at me, I couldn't stop myself from smiling back and feeling an odd tightening in my chest.

"Good morning to you to, Dray." I said easily, almost amused at the brightness in my own voice.

"Mind if I walk you to your first lesson after breakfast?" he asked suddenly.

More gasps.

"Not at all, I'll wait for you by the door, okay?" I agreed. Nodding, Draco kissed my forehead and turned around to go sit at the Slytherin Table.

I practically floated to the Gryffindor Table, well aware of the stares I still received. It seemed that half the Hall was gawking at me, while the other half stared at Draco. The professors seemed to be swiveling their heads back and forth, as stunned as the students. I hummed as I piled food on my plate, and no one spoke until I began devouring my meaty breakfast.

"Izzy…" Harry said, and I was surprised to hear the underlying jealousy in his voice, though it was well hidden from the untrained ear, "is there something you want to tell us?"

I looked to my left at Harry, who was clenching his fork tightly. Ron was outright glaring over my shoulder, across the Hall, at Draco. While Hermione looked concerned, but also highly interested. "Nope," I said, shrugging lightly, "why do you ask?"

"Hmm, let's see…" Harry began quietly, anger mixing with sarcasm. "You never sleep in Gryffindor Tower, and then you walk into the Great Hall and _hug Malfoy!_ On top of that, you agree to let him walk you to class, and he _kissed_ your forehead. I'm surprised it didn't melt off!"

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, as did I, only my eyebrow had risen with each sentence. "You sound like a child throwing a tantrum, Harry. Honestly, do you hear yourself?" I said calmly. "None of that is any of your business, but I can practically read your thoughts off your face. So, to answer your real question, no, I'm not dating Draco or anyone else for that matter, we're just friends." I paused, and snorted. "And I highly doubt that my _forehead_ will _melt off."_

Harry obviously had nothing else to say, and neither did Ron, but Hermione simply smiled at me. "Well, I'm glad someone besides me thinks inter-House unity is important. Malfoy can be a prat sometimes, but if you're friends with him, then he must have some redeeming qualities."

I recognized Hermione's attempt to be supportive, and I was touched beyond belief. I tried to convey my thanks through my eyes, and she seemed to understand. This, however, caused Ron's foul mood to be turned on her. They bickered about completely unimportant things throughout the rest of breakfast, and when the bell rang, we all stood up together.

"Do you guys want to walk with me and Draco?" I offered, half turned away. "If you don't, I'll understand."

Ron looked ready to shout NO; Harry looked torn between not wanting to be anywhere near Draco and not wanting to leave me alone with him; but Hermione decided it for them. She grabbed one Ron with her left hand and Harry with her right hand, and smiled. "We will be walking with you two, and we will be _nice_." She roughly shook the two boys with surprising strength. "Isn't that right, boys?"

"Yes Mione." They chimed unhappily.

An enormous grin bloomed on my lips, and I led them to the doors of the Great Hall, where I met Draco. He looked behind me at the trio and I saw his lips twitch, almost reaching a sneer, but he forced it back and simply nodded at them with what looked like immense effort.

"Here, let me hold your bag for you, Izzy." He offered, gently sliding it off my shoulder.

"Are you sure? It's not that heavy," I said, even as I fought down a blush at the sweet gesture.

"Of course, no gentleman would let a girl carry her own bag. It's simple etiquette." Draco said, almost pointedly. I glanced over my shoulder to see Hermione eyeing Ron and Harry discreetly, before shaking her head disappointedly.

"That's very sweet Draco." I smiled.

"So, where am I walking you to?" Draco said, looking down at me.

"History of Magic," I answered, "should be interesting."

Draco snorted. "The exact opposite actually."

"What do you mean?"

Draco simply shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You'll see."

The rest of the walk was spent with me begging Draco to let me in on the secret of History of Magic class, and my ears picking up on the rude comments Ron and Harry muttered about Draco. Hermione was acting as a sort of referee, keeping the two boys from bating Draco out loud. The entire trip lasted about three minutes, but it was a rather interesting three minutes and when we were at last standing outside of the classroom, Draco handed me my bag and kissed my forehead again. He started to walk away, but gritted his teeth, and shortly inclined his head in the trio's general direction.

I watched his confident stride until he disappeared around the corner, and then led the other three into the classroom. We found four seats in the back, and I ignored Ron and Harry completely as class started. My hearing and Occlumency barriers allowed me to keep up with Professor Binns's quick lecture, but I had to draw on a bit of magic to keep myself awake and alert. Ron and Harry had long since fallen asleep and were snoring loudly beside, along with most of the class. Hermione, on the other hand, looked as alert as I did, and scribbled quickly too. When class was over, I took pity on the boys and promised to make them copies of my notes later, but only if they promised to try to take their own next time.

Seeing as my next class period was Self-Study, I told the trio that I would see them at lunch and headed up to East Tower. Once in my room, I quickly changed into black shorts and a black sports bra, along with matching trainers. I strapped my wand back to my right thigh, and shadowed right out of Hogwarts, and reappeared at my new home in Opulence Alley. As I stepped out of my bedroom there, I took a deep breath and flexed my control over the wards. Yes, I felt that someone had been picking at them and not with much subtly. I didn't specifically recognize the magically signature, but something about it seemed familiar.

Secure in the knowledge that the wards actually worked, however, I headed to my training room on the second floor. On the way, I passed by the library I'd filled up with books from the main family library. I had chosen only books that I'd never read before, and so I vowed to grab some books to take back with me to Hogwarts. Entering my training room, it was set up almost exactly as my previous one had been. One entire wall was made of a long mirror, while the other three were plain white marble and covered with various weapons and equipment that I trained with. The floor was covered with the kind of mats that gymnasts used only mine were black of course.

After going through my usual stretches and exercises, I plopped down onto the mat and sat cross-legged on it as I caught my breath. "Prim!" I called when my heart had returned to its steady rhythm.

"Prim was not expecting Mistress Isavéla home today." Prim said sternly as she popped into the training room. "Prim would've made Mistress Isavéla some food!"

"Don't worry Prim, I had a large breakfast and I'll be having lunch when I return to the school. I assure you that I am not wasting away," I said, almost cheekily. "But I called you Prim, because I would like to ask you something?"

"Of course Mistress Isavéla, ask Prim anything." Prim said immediately.

"Well, you've always known that I can control shadows Prim, even travel through them…" I began slowly.

"Y-yes, Prim has always known." She said softly, and I immediately picked up on the change in her pulse as well as her slight stutter.

Interesting.

"I was wondering if you could tell me where that particular power came from? I know that Lycans are usually associated with fire, and I'd once assumed that I was a shadow elemental, but I think it's more than that." I explained further.

"W-why is Mistress Isavéla needing to know now?" Prim asked shakily.

"Because I think I have a right to know the origins of my own powers, Prim." I said sharply, softening as she flinched at my tone. "You know damn near everything about my family Prim, even more than I do. What are you hiding from me?"

Prim shook her head frantically, pulling her large bat-like ears in desperation. I gently grasped her small arms as I knelt down in front of her. "Prim, I have loved you and treated you as family my entire life, you know I would never force you to do anything, so please, don't make me order you to tell me. I have to know Prim, I just have a feeling I can't even explain." I said, almost desperately.

Two fat tears leaked from Prim's eyes and I felt terrible for putting her through this, but I had to know. "Mistress Ilya didn't want Prim to tell Mistress Isavéla until Mistress Isavéla was of age." She whispered.

I froze and stared more intently at Prim. "What didn't my mother want me to know, Prim? And why wait?" I asked quickly.

"Mistress Ilya said that Mistress Isavéla would find out when the time was right. Mistress Ilya did not think Mistress Isavéla would be able to handle the knowledge before then." Prim said, her eyes glazing over.

"But what was it that she didn't want me to know?" I asked more impatiently, Prim's deliberate vagueness frustrated me to no end.

"Mistress Ilya ordered Prim not to tell. Mistress Ilya said that the answers would come to Mistress Isavéla when the time was right." Prim said, her small body trembling.

"What else? Are you leaving anything out?" I asked quickly.

Now shaking violently, Prim wailed. "Mistress Ilya spoke of a man that is not who everyone thinks he is! Mistress Ilya said that this man would unwittingly reveal the information to Mistress Isavéla, but only after certain events take place!"

I froze, understanding that Prim was discreetly implying that my mother had _Seen_ something about this man. But how was I supposed to know exactly which man she was talking about. I wanted to shake Prim until she told me everything, but my heart ached with guilt as I saw Prim's condition. "Don't say anymore Prim, I'm so sorry." I whispered, pulling the small elf into a tight hug. I held her until her trembling stopped, and when I felt that she was okay.

"I won't ask you for any more information Prim, but I have to figure this out sooner than later, whether my mother thinks I'm ready or not."

"Prim understands." Prim said sadly. "But no matter what is revealed to Mistress Isavéla, she must remember that she is not a bad witch or a bad person."

_What could I possibly discover that would make me think I was a bad person?_

I wanted to ask Prim that question, but instead said, "Thank you Prim, you may go now." With a nod, Prim quickly popped away. I no longer sensed her presence in the house, and so I assumed that she went to clean up East Tower or one of the other properties. I wondered if Prim ever got lonely, being the family's only house-elf, and that thought formed into an idea that I would put into action when I had the time. After cleaning up the training using magic, I headed for the small library down the hall and quickly browsed through the titles, many of which made me wonder about my family members and their interests. Remembering that I was now pressed for time, I grabbed an obscure history book, figuring that I might find another story to tell Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as well as a book on my mother's family, the Silvano line.

Checking the time, I saw that I had at least fifteen minutes to get back to Hogwarts and shower in time for lunch. I shadow-stepped directly into my bedroom in East Tower and gently tucked the two books by my pillow before hurrying into the bathroom. As I showered, I pondered this new predicament that I found myself in. This shadow power that I possessed must have much more behind it than I'd originally thought seeing as my mother went to such lengths to hide it from me until she thought I was ready to know. Despite what she may have thought, I had to know as soon as possible, but with the barest clues possible, there was no way I was going to find this mystery man with the answers that I needed. Somehow in the midst of my trying to unravel my identity, I remembered that I was supposed to report back to Madam Pomfrey this morning before breakfast for a follow-up.

"Damn," I muttered, speeding up.

I used a spell to dry off as I darted into my closet, wiggling into a pair of black skinny jeans, black ballerina slippers, and a gold sheer tank top. After strapping my wand to my right thigh, I shadow-stepped to a dark alcove on the first floor and ran to the Hospital Wing from there. I burst into the place and saw that Madam Pomfrey's door was closed.

I heard muffled talking and assumed that a privacy spell had been used, and so I decided to wait on one of the vacant beds. As I idly swung my legs, I wondered if my friends would wonder where I'd been and why I'd missed the first half of lunch. After about five minutes, I was pulled from my calming thoughts as two small boys, possibly first years, entered the Hospital Wing. The slightly taller boy had strawberry blonde hair and cream skin, while the smaller had mousy brown hair and paler skin that was covered in a sheen of sweat. The taller boy was supporting the other and I quickly noticed that the smaller boy was limping. The scent of pain, though milder than the scent of anger, was no less unappealing as it reached my nostrils.

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey, Dennis's been burned in Charm's class! He needs help!" the taller boy called desperately. As I quickly slid off of the bed, I gently scooped the smaller boy into my arms and placed him on the bed I had just vacated. Smoothing back his hair, which was plastered to his sweaty face, I recognized him as Dennis Creevey, Colin Creevey's littler brother.

"Madam Pomfrey's in a meeting sweetie, do you think –?"

My question broke off as Dennis stared at me pleadingly with wide brown eyes that glistened. "Please…" he whispered, and my heart damn near broke, "it…h-hurts…"

_Dammit!_ My inner wolf seemed to echo my thoughts.

Reaching out with my hearing, it didn't sound as though Madam Pomfrey would be out soon and I couldn't leave Dennis in pain. With a sigh, I examined his burn more closely. It covered his entire left leg from the knee down, and even the tops of his trainers had been singed. It wasn't too serious that he'd have to be sent to St. Mungo's but it was bad enough that it had to be unbearably painful at the moment. Pulling out my wand, I muttered soothing words to Dennis as I cast a numbing charm over his leg. He relaxed slightly, but the charm would only last a few minutes until I could find some burn-healing paste.

"W-what can I do?" the other boy asked. I had almost forgotten that he was here. I kneeled down and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"You were really brave to bring Dennis up here by yourself, you know that? And a darn good friend, as well." I said softly.

The boy's eyes widened and he stared up at me. "R-really? You mean it?"

"Of course I do, but you know what real friends do?" I asked. The boy shook his head. "They'd sit next to their friend's bed and tell them everything will be okay."

The boy nodded in understanding.

"Hey, what's your name?" I asked.

"Nigel Wolpert." He said, before hurrying over to Dennis's bed and clambering into one of the chairs beside it. I heard him whispering to Dennis as I walked over to the large cupboard that contained the healing potions. Mentally groaning as I felt the wards around it, which were much stronger than any seventh year could break through, I said a mental apology to Madam Pomfrey before using a family spell to create a hole in them.

"_Magnis Posticum!_" I muttered quickly.

I didn't put too much power into the spell and so the hole I'd punched into the wards would close after a few moments. My eyes scanned through the cupboard rapidly and fell on the large jar of light green burn-heal paste. I grabbed it before returning to Dennis's side.

"Dennis, I have to warn you that this will feel really cold but the sensation will lesson after a few minutes. Stay very still, okay?" I instructed calmly.

Dennis and Nigel watched me with wide eyes as I applied the minty-scented paste with a feather-light touch. It took a few minutes to completely coat his burn with it, and when I was done, the jar was half-empty.

"Wow that is really cold." Dennis breathed, a bright smile blooming on his face. "Wait till the others see this!"

"Dennis, I'm afraid that this burn will leave a bit of a scar, but it should fade after a few months." I informed him slowly, hoping beyond hope that the boy wouldn't burst into tears.

To my utter relief, Dennis said, "It's okay, scars are cool!" with plenty of enthusiasm. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore and so the paste must've been doing its job properly.

"Do you mind telling me what happened, Dennis?" I said, picking up the clipboard and quill attached to the foot of the bedframe.

"Oh, we were in Charm's class and Professor Flitwick was trying to teach us the fire spell. He said I put too much magic into mine, and it got out of control." Dennis confessed. He looked down, almost ashamed. I scribbled down the correct information, asking for personal questions about himself to fill in on the chart, before running standard spells over him.

"No fever or other injuries, you should be perfectly fine. Now listen to me," I said, cupping Dennis's chin and lifted it until he met my eyes, "there is absolutely nothing wrong with overpowering a spell, I've done it hundreds of times. It just means that you have more power and magical potential, but you'll have to work on your control harder than your friends. That's something to be proud of Dennis, not ashamed of, okay?"

Dennis's somber mood disappeared as quickly as it had come and he nodded quickly.

"That's really cool, Dennis!" Nigel exclaimed excitedly. "Think of all the powerful spells you could learn in the future!"

At that moment, the Hospital Wing doors burst open and Colin Creevey ran into the room, his face betraying his panic. "Where's Dennis? Someone told me my little brother was burned! Where –" His frantic words failed as his eyes fell on Dennis, Nigel, and me. The relief nearly bowled him over, and he hurried over to Dennis and pulled the small boy into a tight hug.

"Dennis, don't you dare scare me like that again, you hear me? Do you know how worried I was? And you know mum would _skin_ me alive if anything serious happened to you during your first week here!" Colin muttered rapidly as he damn near smothered Dennis to his chest. When he let him go, Dennis's face was pink but he obviously adored his older brother, and he smiled brilliantly up at him.

"It's okay Colin, this nice lady healed it for me and she said I was powerful too!" he said excitedly.

Colin finally _really_ looked at me, and blushed. "Oh, t-thank you Izzy, for healing Colin – I mean – err – Dennis."

I smiled at Colin, and the poor boy's pulse accelerated, it was rather adorable. "Don't worry about it Colin. Dennis was a good patient and a brave soldier, as was his friend Nigel. You might want to talk to your parents about Dennis's power levels though. They're a bit above normal for a boy his size and age. You could take him to St. Mungo's to be officially tested."

"Is that bad?" Colin asked, becoming serious.

My inner wolf seemed to approve of Colin's concern over his younger brother, seeing as Lycan considered pack to be the most important thing in the world.

"Not at all, but it's better to be aware so that he can work on his control more carefully. Also, kids with higher power levels are prone to more bouts of accidental magic, even after starting at Hogwarts." I informed him professionally.

Colin breathed a sigh of relief, and ruffled Dennis's hair affectionately. "That's my little man, mum and dad'll be proud, no doubt." He murmured. "Thank you for everything Izzy, really. I don't know how I can ever repay you for healing Dennis and telling us about his powers."

"Don't worry about it, really Colin. But I would leave the paste on for at least another three hours. By then, he can wash it off and his leg should be fine, with just a faint scar, but that'll heal eventually." I said calmly, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

"Thanks Izzy," Dennis and Nigel chimed shyly, waving as Colin led both boys out of the Hospital Wing.

"That was quite amazing, Miss Snow." Madam Pomfrey said from behind me. Behind her was a black haired professor that I'd seen at the Sorting two nights ago. I recognized him as _the_ Severus Snape, the youngest Potions Master in the last century, and shifted as he stared emotionlessly at me.

"How long have you been standing there?" I asked, absently cleaning and straightening the bed I had put Dennis on.

"Since the silent alarm around my potions cupboard went off." She said wryly.

"I apologize ma'am, but Dennis was in a lot of pain and I didn't want to interrupt you." I said respectfully, looking the kind but stern matron in the eye.

"I understand dear, but I am curious as to how you handled the situation. It was almost as if you were a trained Healer." Madam Pomfrey inquired.

"My mother was a Head Healer at St. Mungo's before she died, ma'am. I learned a lot from watching her, and I asked a lot of questions." I smiled sadly.

"Well, you did an excellent job, so much so that I was wondering if you'd be interested in coming to help me out every so often in here?" she asked suddenly.

My eyes widened with disbelief but Professor Snape seemed to mutely agree with her. "Seriously, Madam Pomfrey? You'd like my help?" I breathed, floored yet honored.

"Yes Miss Snow. Some days are busier than others, and I find that on those days, my job would be much less stressful if I had a reliable helping hand. You wouldn't have to come in everyday, but perhaps in some of your free time you may come help, or in case of an emergency, I shall send a house-elf to bring you to me." Madam Pomfrey explained. She seemed to ponder something. "You seem to know a lot dear, but there's always room for more knowledge, if you would like me to impart some?"

"I would be truly honored for the opportunity, Madam Pomfrey. Thank you." I said, bowing my head. "However, I apologize for not returning here this morning as you requested. I had a bit of a family emergency I had to attend to." I lied smoothly.

"Think nothing of it dear, do you mind Severus being here for this conversation?" She asked calmly, gesturing for me to sit on the edge of the nearest bed.

"No ma'am, I don't mind."

"Very well. When running standard tests over you yesterday, I found two very distinct oddities in your blood and magic. I was wondering if you'd noticed?" Madam Pomfrey began.

_Oddities?_ My inner wolf seemed to huff.

I wondered at how vocal she was becoming as of late, but pushed the thought to the back of my mind and nodded slowly in response to Madam Pomfrey's question. "You're referring to the amber-ish color and the swirling black one, correct?"

"Yes. Now, do you know what those colors mean?" she prompted.

"I have an idea as to the amber color, the black however, is currently a mystery to me." I admitted.

Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape stared at me. "Very well, Miss Snow, I will not intrude on you privacy unless you request my help in determining the source of the black aura. However, I am now aware that you have Lycan blood in your veins, am I correct?"

"Yes ma'am," I said calmly, "I am half-Lycan, half-witch.

"How long have you known?

"Since birth ma'am, it's been passed down in my family since the beginning." I explained.

"Not much is known about Lycans, Miss Snow, as they generally keep to themselves. We've had one werewolf student attend Hogwarts before," Madam Pomfrey revealed. I immediately picked up the harsh scent of anger and disgust coming from Professor Snape in waves, even though his facial expression never changed in the slightest, and I raised an eyebrow. "We had to take precautions during a full moon. I would like to know if that will be necessary with you as well?"

"No ma'am, Lycan transform at will and even in Lycan form, we are able to keep our human minds. We are stronger and more powerful during a full moon, but it doesn't affect us in any other way." I clarified.

"Have you transformed before, Miss Snow?" Madam Pomfrey continued.

"No." I said shortly.

"And why is that?" Professor Snape asked, speaking for the first time.

"Although we slowly gain bits and pieces of our wolfish traits as we age and grow, it is only after we come into our full powers that we may fully transform into Lycan form. The amount of power within a Lycan determines the age at which they come into their full powers; the more powerful you are, the early you come into your full powers. As we come into our full powers, we are forcefully transformed into our Lycan form but immediately gain control over our minds instead of succumbing to wolfish instincts and urges. After that initial transformation, we may do it at will." I paused. "However, I would prefer not to answer any more questions about my people."

"Of course Miss Snow, as is your right to refuse. Are you certain that you would not like my or Professor Snape's assistance in determining the meaning of the black aura?" She asked.

"Not at this time ma'am, however, if I should change my mind, I will inform you both immediately." I promised.

"Very well Miss Snow, you may return to lunch."

I thanked Madam Pomfrey and started for the door, but my hearing still picked up Madam Pomfrey's whispered words. "You remember what I said Severus, it's like a magical parasite."

Confused, I wondered if she was talking about me and if it had something to do with the swirling black aura. As my stomach roared with hunger, I hurried down to the Great Hall as it was not the middle of lunch. When I entered the large room, I ignored the usual stares I received as I sat in my seat at the Gryffindor Table. I piled bits of meat and a loaded salad onto my plate before digging in, suddenly ravenous. As I swallowed the first few bites of meat, primal bliss settled within me and I finally greeted my friends.

"Colin's telling the entire House how you healed his little brother, Izzy." Harry said, smiling softly.

"Err – yeah. I was the only person in the Hospital wing at the time and Madam Pomfrey was in a serious meeting with Professor Snape. I thought it would be rude to interrupt but I couldn't just leave the kid in pain." I explained nonchalantly, before downing a gulp of pumpkin juice. "It was nothing but now Madam Pomfrey wants me to come help her out in the Hospital Wing in my free time and in case of emergencies."

"Wow, really?" Hermione breathed, impressed. "I've always been interested in Healer work, I bet that'll be a great experience."

There was the slightest bit of sadness and longing in her voice, and I wondered at it. Deciding not to call attention to it in front of everyone, I agreed and changed the subject. "What can I expect from Professor Snape in Potions? He seemed a bit cold." Another one of those three-way loaded glances passed between the trio, and my lunch was joined by a detailed recounting of class with Snape. What I learned from the three was rather interesting and made me a bit wary.

As the bell rang, I blew out a deep breath. "Well, I guess I'm about to get some firsthand experience, then? But I have to wonder what always has Snape in such a foul mood, going on what you three have just told me. Hmm… maybe he just needs to get laid.

The sound of three people choking and gagging behind me cause a large grin to bloom on my lips as we headed for the door along with the rest of the students. As we walked down to the dungeons, I noticed that it got colder the farther down we went, but I was more affected by it than usual, and so I drew my cloak more tightly around me. Snape was already waiting for us inside the classroom and so we filed in, and I dragged Harry, Hermione, and Ron to the front of the classroom with me. Professor Snape gave the three of them cold looks but simply glanced my way before addressing the class and giving an interesting little speech on the wonders of potion making and how incompetent he thought the lot of us were.

"Miss Snow," Professor Snape drawled slowly.

It seemed that the entire class sat up straight with rapt attention, but I gazed calmly up at the man. "Yes, sir?" I asked politely.

"Would you care to tell me what Golpalott's Third Law states?"

That was a sixth year subject, I noted. The outrage on Hermione's face said she knew that fact as well.

"Golpalott's Third Law states that the antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components," I recited carefully, "sir."

Professor Snape's eyebrow twitched, but his face showed no sign of pleasure or displeasure. "Correct. Can you tell me what Amortentia is and describe the three main characteristics of a properly brew cauldron of said potion?"

Also a sixth year subject, possibly seventh year.

"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion known to the wizarding world and if consumed, causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker. The three main characteristics are a distinct mother-of-pearl sheen, spiraling steam, and a multi-faceted scent which varies depending on what the person smelling the potion likes or is attracted to." I stated clearly.

There was utter silence and stillness after my flawless explanation.

Now Professor Snape's expression melted just a tad, almost imperceptibly. "Also correct, one final question. What is fluxweed and in order to correctly brew a cauldron of Polyjuice Potion, when does it need to be picked?"

Definitely a seventh year question, what was Snape playing at?

"Fluxweed, sir, is a plant in the mustard family that is well known for its healing properties. In order for it to be successfully used in Polyjuice Potion it has to be picked under the full moon."

"Correct," Snape said curtly. "Perhaps I have finally gained a competent student."

Throughout the class period, Professor Snape had us get use to the process of potion-making again with a third year potion, the Confusing Concoction. It was horrifyingly easy to brew, even with Professor Snape literally hovering over my shoulder, watching every move I made, a fact he certainly did not try to conceal. I managed to block him out, but it was hard to ignore the warmth his body radiated into my cold one as he stood inches away from my back. It was a good thing that my potion was already finished because as I focused on this new warmth, my vision began fading in and out. Feeling as though I was floating in a peaceful abyss, I sought out the source of the warmth…

"Izzy, what are you doing?" Hermione hissed.

Such wonderful, wonderful warmth this was…

"Izzy!"

I frowned. Why was Hermione ruining my peacefulness with the warmth? Shaking my head, I attempted to burrow in deeper into the warmth, enjoying the clean scent of it. I hummed happily as I felt a deep thumping coming from within the warmth and pressed myself closer to it until I felt as though my body was molding with it. I was becoming thoroughly enveloped in it when I felt sharp nailed fingers pinch my bare leg. Cursing, my eyes snapped open and I quickly wondered why I had my face and upper body pressed against a warm, hard wall. Looking up, my face flushed beyond belief and if I'd died right then, I would've been perfectly okay with that. For what I had my face and bosom rubbing against – what I had been _snuggling _into – was in fact, Snape's chest and stomach. I had my hands tightly wound into his cloak and was halfway burrowed into it, with my _face and breasts_ pressed against his _stomach_.

Merlin, if you could just send down a lightning bolt right now, I'd be eternally grateful.

When I realized that Merlin was not going to save me from this humiliation, I let go of Snape as if my skin were being flayed by the contact. I refused to look him in the eye and the flush in my face burned even brighter. Instead, I looked around and thanked the gods that the entire class, besides Harry, Ron, and Hermione, had been too preoccupied with not blowing up their cauldrons to notice me sexually assaulting our professor.

"Oh Merlin," I gasped, completely mortified, "I'm so incredibly sorry Professor! I don't know what came over me, I didn't mean to –"

"Please," Professor Snape interrupted, his voice oddly strained and his pale skin having gained faint pinkness to it, "bottle and label your potion, Miss Snow." Without another word or glance in my direction, he swept away from me and began his circuits around the room, checking on the other students' progress.

I leaned on my elbows and hid my scarlet face in my hands.

"Are you okay, Izzy? I'm sure he's not mad." Hermione whispered, as she soothingly rubbed my back.

"I've never seen him look so shaken," Ron breathed, amazed but also clearly disgusted.

"What was that, Izzy? One minute you were finishing up you potion, and the next – well you know…" Harry muttered.

"Drop it, all of you." I hissed quietly as I finally forced down my blush. Shame and humiliation forced me to keep my head down and my mouth shut for the rest of the class period, even as I quickly helped Harry and Ron salvage their potions enough for a passing grade.

Seeing as I was the first student finished, I was the first person to run from the classroom when the bell rang. I didn't stop running until I was almost to the front doors leading out onto the grounds.

When the bell rang, I was the first person to have my station cleaned, my vial filled and labeled, and placed on Professor Snape's desk before I ran from the classroom. I didn't stop until I was almost to the front doors leading out onto the grounds. Once outside, I embraced the fresh air and strong wind. Tucking my bag in a small corner, I nudged my inner wolf, "It's time for a little run." I almost grinned as she immediately perked up and began shaking her entire body, as if to warm up. As I let go of my control, I felt the power that I kept repressed flow throughout my body with ease. I noticed that I never truly felt like myself unless I let go, but that wasn't an option when I was so out of control lately.

I kicked off my dragon-hide boots, tossed my braid over my shoulder, and took a running leap right off the top of the staircase. My jump took me high and far, and I somersaulted before literally hitting the ground running. As I felt the strong wind pick up around me and the cool grass beneath my feet, I felt free. My inner wolf was no longer in my core, because she had merged with me. I knew that my eyes had to be glowing, and I knew my fangs and claws were out, but I didn't care. No one was out here to see me or judge me. I flew down the grounds with so much speed that was less than a blur, and I laughed freely as my robe flew out behind me. I heard water, and headed in that direction, coming in view of the Black Lake. Fully emerging myself in my strength and speed, I zipped around the entire lake several times, my feet touching the ground less and less often, and pretty soon, I was more gliding than running.

Feeling a bit silly, I began doing flips as I ran, turning cartwheels and backflips as I pleased. I must've spent my entire Self-Study period simply running around because it seemed that, too soon for my liking, the bell rang to signal the end of the last lesson of the day. I felt cleansed in a way as I walked calmly back to where I'd stored my bag, happy, even though my hands, feet, and robes were covered in dirt. I mentally apologized for urging my inner wolf back into my core until I felt my features return to normal, and I could feel her sadness. It was terrible the way I kept her caged up. I didn't want to reveal my true self and risk scaring everyone away, and she was suffering for it.

Heading quickly up to East Tower, I showered in a hurry before pulling on dark blue skinny jeans, black lace-up boots, and a plain black shirt. My hair was still in its long braid, and even the stares I received couldn't dampen my mood. However, as I sat down at the Gryffindor Table, I couldn't help but scan the Head Table. And when my eyes landed on the darkly dressed professor I had snuggled with about an hour ago, that served to bring me down from my exhilaration high. As I ate with more reservation than usual, I found my thoughts drawn back to my rather eventful day. My thoughts began bouncing around in a circle.

Draco and his story, his pain, and our renewed friendship; Sirius Black, and our vague plan to find him; these secrets kept between my mother and Prim about me; Madam Pomfrey, her offer, and her line of questioning; my sexual assault of Professor Snape in class; and to add another problem to the list…my new troubling thoughts over my inner wolf. It seemed as though I was forgetting something, when that _something_ poked me in the side and stared at me with worried eyes.

"Are you okay, Izzy?" Harry asked softly, leaning forward. "You stopped eating and you were starting to get pale again."

I stared at Harry's still innocent face, and wondered how much he hid behind those bright emerald eyes. I remembered that I was supposed to talk to Professor Dumbledore for him about self-study, and I realized that I hadn't spent any alone time with him since the World Cup. Going on what Hermione and I had briefly talked about that night, Draco and Harry were in the same sinking boat, they just didn't know it yet.

I smiled reassuringly at the sweet boy and touched his hand briefly, hearing his pulse spike for a moment. "I'm fine Harry, thank you for asking. Do you have any homework you need any help with after dinner?" I offered kindly.

Harry smiled a true genuine smile that did a strange thing to my own pulse, and he nodded. "Actually, I need a bit of help with Potions. You seem to be brilliant at it, and it just doesn't click for me. Think you could help me out?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course."

And that's exactly what we did when dinner ended and the four of us headed up to Gryffindor Tower. While Hermione read a book and Ron asked around for a chess opponent, Harry and I curled up on one of the squishy loveseats with the first year Potions textbook on both of our legs. When Harry had complained, I told him that the best way to understand was to start from the basics. And so I had started from the very beginning, taking the time to explain in ways the book didn't, in order to help Harry understand why certain ingredients combined to make specific things happen. He asked a lot of questions, and we'd gotten through the first half of the book when Harry began yawning more often.

Grinning, I folded down the page we were on, closed the book, and stood up.

"Oi, I was –" Harry's words broke off with another forceful yawn, and he reached high over his head to stretch, his shirt coming up slightly to reveal a hard, toned stomach that immediately caught my attention, "reading that."

Laughing, I shook my head to clear away my sudden thoughts. "No way Harry, you look dead on your feet. We can finished tomorrow, I promise." I compromised.

"Fine," he grumbled lightly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I don't seem to remember you being this insistent on learning when I was trying to tutor you." She said wryly, the corners of her lips coming up slightly.

Harry poked his tongue out at her. "I don't know what you're talking about Hermione." He said firmly, only to yawn again. Giggling, I pushed him towards the boys' staircase until he abruptly turned around, causing me to bump into to his solid chest. Looking up at him, I saw something pass through Harry's eyes.

"You need sleep," I said slowly, feeling my own exhaustion catching up to me.

He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug, and I found that I liked Harry's particular warmth much more than Snape's, or even Draco's. I hugged him back, before letting go, and slipping out of his arms. "Sleep, now." I said seriously, trying and failing to stop smiling.

Seemingly satisfied, Harry bid Hermione and I goodnight, being followed up by Ron. "Goodnight Hermione," I said as I headed for the portrait hole.

"Izzy…" Hermione said, and I stopped and turned around. She bit her lip, but quickly shook her head. "It's nothing, goodnight to you to."

"Are you sure you're alright, Mione? We could talk for a while, if you want?" I offered caringly.

That made the honey-haired girl hesitate, clearly considering my offer but she shook her head. "It's nothing Izzy, and I'm sure you're tired anyway."

I paused, halfway turned away before nodding slowly. "Well, if you're Mione. I'll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." She called as she headed up the stairs to the girls' dorm.

With that, I headed back to East Tower, wondering how I was supposed to solve everyone's problems on top of my own.


	9. Recognize & React

_**A/N: Usually, I can detach myself as I write, if I feel the need…but I have to admit that even I was a bit disturbed as I wrote parts of this chapter. I'm sure my readers can figure out where.**_

_Previous Chapter:_

_With that, I headed back to East Tower, wondering how I was supposed to solve everyone's problems on top of my own._

**Chapter Nine: **_**Recognize & React**_

"_**We are addicted to our thoughts. We cannot change anything if we cannot change our thinking."**_

Wednesday passed with me splitting my time.

I spent my Self-Study class periods meditating and exercising, trying to calmly figure out these problems that seemed to be piling up more quickly than I could solve them. During meals, I made sure to engage Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Neville in conversations, feeling a bit guilty that I was somewhat neglecting them. Draco had spent the night in East Tower again, and had taken to walking me to class whenever it wasn't a Self-Study period, after I had confessed to him that I left Hogwarts to do it. Hermione acted as a good buffer between Draco and Harry and Ron, but I could see that it was already wearing on her.

The most interesting class that week, by far, had to be Professor Moody's on Thursday afternoon. And though I dutifully paid attention in Transfiguration that morning, thoroughly impressing Professor McGonagall with my knowledge on the subject, my mind always wandered back to Moody. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I were so anxious to get good seats in Moody's first lesson, especially after all that the twins and Lee Jordan had told us about him, that we arrived early and queued outside the classroom, the rest of the class soon showed up as well.

"Come on," I urged the trio, pulling Harry by the hand, "let's go in or we won't get decent seats."

We entered the room before anyone else and found four desks positioned directly in front of the teacher's desk. Taking out our copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self-Protection_, we sat impatiently and waited. Usually, before class started the students would chatter until the teacher called for attention, but we were all unusually quiet. As the seconds ticked by, I inhaled deeply and frowned. It wasn't that it smelled bad in the classroom, but something certainly smelled off. There was rising tension in the air, and a few confused mutterings began around the class. My inner wolf perked up suddenly, and I stilled as she began growling a warning to me. I nudged Harry, who sat on my left, and Hermione who was on my right.

"Something doesn't feel right, be ready." I whispered.

Confused, Harry discreetly pulled out his wand, as did Hermione, and Ron, after she had passed on my message. Just as I felt as though I would explode from the tension, and exactly three minutes passed since class was supposed to start, a large figure covered completely in black burst into the classroom and shot a series of spells around at the class. I didn't know if they were harmless or not, and as the trio and I burst into action, having already been warned, I shot up powerful shields that not only protected the students, but also rebounded the spells back at the caster.

He seemed to not have expected that move and now focused on me, though I could tell from his stance that he was aware of Harry, Hermione, and Ron as well, all of whom had spread out and had their wands pointed at the intruder. Breathing deeply, I felt my inner wolf getting excited and felt a spike in my senses. I allowed her to merge the tiniest bit and let instincts take over in the split second pause that had occurred. The entire class seemed to be holding its breath, though I never even blinked. The second the intruder twitched, the fight commenced.

He was bloody brilliant.

For one, he had an amazing repertoire of defensive and offensive spells that would've easily taken the trio out of the fight if I wasn't shielding them while they fought. He had no trouble fighting all four of us at once, but I saw the others getting tired. I noticed that he didn't cast anything stronger than a fifth year spell however, and suspicion began to form in my mind. Throwing out my listening as I ducked under two well-aimed stunners, I heard the telltale _clunk_ of wood on the hard floor. A grin formed on my lips, even as Hermione and Ron were simultaneously stunned.

While Harry's spells had awesome power behind them, he clearly didn't know a wide range of spells. It was easier to protect two people rather than four, but as Harry was disarmed and flew back into a desk, I took the opportunity from that distraction and lunged forward with a snarl. Obviously caught off guard, the man didn't have time to brace himself and we both went down in a tangle of limbs. Though the man was much bigger than me, I had supernatural strength and years of training on my side. My father always said the only way to win a real fight is to fight dirty, and so I had no qualms about shoving my knee into the man's crotch and punching him in the throat. As he choked and naturally attempted to cover his bits, I pressed my wand into his neck and he froze as the tip of it heated up.

"One more move and Filch'll be cleaning your brains off the floor." I said icily.

That little threat caused the sweet smell of fear to drift towards me from many around the room. They were holding their breath, and I heard Harry's heavy breathing as he groaned and tried to get back on his feet. "_Finite!_" I snapped, canceling the concealment charm that had obscured his features. And though the class gasped in shock, I smirked down at the appraising and strained face of our Professor, Mad-Eye Moody.

"Let's see…" he said gruffly, his voice still carried a bit of pain. I had put a lot of force into kneeing him. "Thirty points for being prepared for anything and responding immediately to an attack, twenty points for not only protecting yourself but also your comrades, twenty points for your wide range of spells, both offensive and defensive, fifteen points for using a physical attack, something hardly any magical person would even consider and," he grinned rather creepily, "twenty points for fighting dirty, which is after all, the only way to really win."

It was then that I wondered if it hadn't been this man that had taught my father that motto.

Anyone watching the huge hourglasses in the entrance hall that kept track of House points would be stunned as rubies flooded into the bottom half. If my mental math was correct, I'd just earned Gryffindor one hundred and five points in one go. "Very well Miss Snow, however, I would appreciate it if you allowed me up to teach my class."

I raised my eyebrow. "You can't honestly expect me to just let you up after you burst into the classroom and attacked the students?" I asked rhetorically. "How do I know you're the _real_ Professor Moody?"

The silence seemed to be deafening.

"Because I use to change your smelly diapers when you were a baby, and I know when you eat cabbage your –"

"Alright! Alright!" I said loudly, my ears burning as snickers began behind me. "You're the real Moody, please just stop!"

Standing up, I offered him my hand and pulled him up with an easy tug. I picked up his wand, which had fallen during our scuffle on the floor, and handed it back to him, handle first.

"Sorry for – you know – kneeing you and punching you in the throat." I said sheepishly, and I heard several amused snorts.

"Nonsense, nonsense," Moody said gruffly as he adjusted his wooden leg, "never apologize for trying to survive. Doing anything it takes to win a fight and CONSTANT VIGILANCE," the class jumped, a few girls squeaked, and I winced as I felt a stab of pain in my ears, "are two of many important lessons that will keep you alive!"

Using magic, I helped Professor Moody get the class back in order before returning to my seat between a newly revived Hermione, and Harry, who was rubbing his shoulder and glaring at Moody. I nudged him. "Oh stop it," I whispered, "it was a good introduction."

"You weren't blasted into a bloody desk!" Harry hissed.

Professor Moody leaned on his desk and looked around at our class, examining everyone's face at least once, before glancing down at our desks. "You can put those away," he growled, "those books, you won't need them."

That seemed to be code word for an interesting class period, because the atmosphere in the classroom became less tense and more excited. "Now, let's take the next few minutes to analyze the rights and wrongs of what just happened. Who would like to start?" Moody asked, easily slipping into teacher mode.

Though my hand tingled with the urge to rise, I wanted to give someone else a chance. When no one else volunteered, I rolled my eyes and raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Snow?"

"Well, for one, instead of immediately diving for cover or throwing up a shield, most of the class sat in their chair, watching as if this were a Quidditch match." I said calmly, though without one ounce of accusation.

Professor Moody nodded. "Excellent beginning. You are all reaching a point in your lives where you may be called upon for help in an emergency. You are young, but you are not children anymore. You cannot rely on your parents or older siblings to protect you from the bad guys forever. Now is the time to begin learning your strengths and weaknesses, and building on both. Before you graduate here, if going for your wand or diving for cover in the face of danger is not your first immediate response…well, good luck to you."

I suppose no one, including myself, had expected Moody's first lecture to go in this direction but it made sense in a dark kind of way. Sure, we had a few years until we were really in the real world, but that's not the time to learn how to protect ourselves. By then, it's too late.

"There are three main important elements that determine who survives a dangerous situation, and whose body has to be identified by the Aurors." Moody said bluntly. "These three things are: How willfully you put yourself in a dangerous situation, how fast you recognize what's _really_ going on, and how prepared you are to deal with any situation. When you take a step out your front door every day, you are willingly walking into unknown danger because you can't see the future and decide if that morning stroll is worth an AK to the back. We'll get back to that at the beginning of our next lesson."

He paused, taking in the darkly fascinated and horrified faces of my classmates, and allowed that image to sink in before he took out a register, and began calling names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Right then," he said, as he tucked the parchment into his robes, "there are countless dangers in every aspect of life, and every decision can either bring you to Death's front door or allow you to live another day. Though some may think that Dark creatures are the worst things out there," Moody almost grinned, "the real dangers are the people sitting right beside you. Who's to say one of your so-called _friends_ won't pull out there wand right now and try to blow your head off? I know it's possible, because I've been there."

This caused almost the entire to give the people seated beside them uneasy and suspicious looks. I noticed, however, that Ron, Hermione, and Harry all looked almost defiantly at Moody, never even glancing at each other.

"Betrayal is a very real danger, possibly the worst, because it affects you mentally, emotionally, and physically. Always keep in mind that you're biggest enemies are the ones who know the most about you, who know your strengths and weaknesses, and how to exploit them. The people you consider your friends." Moody's voice was hard and unpitying. "Friendships can save your life when in need of an ally, but they can also bring you down from the inside out. Lesson for the day…choose your friends wisely."

The man was more brilliant than I'd ever hoped to imagine. He wasn't just teaching us to wave our wands and cast a bunch of spells, but actual life lessons that could keep us alive.

"As I was saying, most people think that Dark creatures are the worst things out there, and I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures, but there are worst things out there. One of the most common threats in the wizarding world is the possibility of being –?"

"Cursed." Hermione said suddenly, almost startling me as she had been completely silent since the fight at the beginning of the lesson.

"Precisely, Miss Granger. You're more likely to get cursed than you are to be attacked by a werewolf or kappa, and you're very, very behind on dealing with curses." Moody said, shaking his head. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark –"

My heart dropped.

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.

"Don't interrupt Ron!" Hermione hissed.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron, who looked extremely apprehensive. But after a tense moment, Moody smiled – the effect making his heavily scarred face looked more twisted and contorted than ever.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody asked. "Your father got me out a very tight corner a few days ago… Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore… One year and then it's back to my quiet retirement." He gave a harsh, almost bitter, laugh and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"As I was saying, curses are the most imminent threat you face in the world we live in today, besides a serious quidditch accident or over dosage of a love potion." Moody said sardonically. "They come in varying strengths and forms but there's one thing that all curses have in common – they are meant to _harm_. If someone, even if it's someone you've known your entire life, shoots a curse at you, do not assume that he or she is simply trying to play a prank."

Glancing around, I saw that Moody still very much had the entire class's undivided attention.

"Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it until then. I say that's bullocks." Moody growled seriously. "The sooner you know what you're up against, and how to defend against it, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? Another reason why knowledge is power!"

I found myself nodding in agreement with that phrase. I followed it myself.

"I'm not saying that you can learn everything from a book," Moody snorted in disgust, "some things can only be learned through experience, but the more you know, the better chance you have of surviving any type of situation. A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. But if you recognize the curse and react quickly enough, you may be able to respond accordingly. Recognize and react," he punctuated, "remember that."

"You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to be VIGILANT at all times! So – do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody chose Hermione.

"That would be the three Unforgivable Curses, sir, which are all punishable by an automatic life sentence in Azkaban." She said clearly.

"Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger. You are exactly right."

"I never understood that." I said, sitting up.

Moody's eyes, the normal and magical one, shot to me and he raised an eyebrow. "It seems you have something to add, Miss Snow. Please," he gestured to the class, "enlighten us."

"Well," I said slowly, "the Ministry gives the harshest sentence to those three curses more than any other, but the simple fact is that there are curses out there that would make the Unforgivables look like a tickling charm."

Moody looked a bit more intently at me. "Would you care to give us an example or two?"

"There's the Entrail-Expelling curse, which should be self-explanatory," I started, "and there's also the Lycacomia curse, which can change someone into a werewolf. I personally believe that no one should have to suffer that sort of pain and suffering, and perhaps that should be an Unforgivable instead of the Imperius Curse. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of compulsion and controlling spells and potions, so why should the Imperius be an Unforgivable instead of one of the others?"

"Excellent, excellent examples Miss Snow," Moody agreed, "and though you are very correct about there being worse things than what the Unforgivables can do, what exactly are they?"

Once again, several hands were slowly raised, but Moody picked on Ron this time.

"Err," Ron said tentatively, "my dad told me about one…the Imperius Curse, right?"

"Ah yes," Moody nodded appreciatively, "your father would know all about that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse." He got heavily to his feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it.

Even as my skin crawled, I saw Ron recoil violently on Hermione's right and made a mental note to remember that Ron was afraid of spiders. Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that we could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "_Imperio!_"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly and then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, he was the puppeteer and the spider was the puppet, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone was laughing, except Hermione, Ron, Harry, Moody, and me.

I gritted my teeth as I watched the sick performance, and suddenly I wasn't as enthusiastic about learning about these curses. I already knew what those curses could do and I found myself wondering if this is how house-elves felt when they've been given an order. Winky's tear-stained face popped into my head as she struggled against an invisible force that day in the forest. Had she been like this spider? Horrified and pained but completely unable to break the force over her? I could never give Prim an order, not after this.

"Total control," Moody said quietly as the spider balled itself up and bean to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

Ron gave a harsh shudder.

"Who needs the bloody Cruciatus Curse when they have this." I muttered angrily, clenching my fists. "Just watching this is torture enough, but to have to experience it…"

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," Moody said, and I knew he was referring to the days when Voldemort had been at the height of power, back when most of our parents had been fighting either against him or with him.

"Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, startling the enraptured class. Professor Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air, as did Neville's, a bit more cautiously. My heartbeat picked up as I realized what must be going through Neville's head right now. I knew exactly which curse he was about to say, because I had gone with him and his grandmother once to see the result of it in the hospital – in the form of his parents.

"Yes?" Moody said, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"The – the Cruciatus Curse," Neville said in a small, but hard voice.

"Neville…" I breathed sadly.

Moody was staring very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes. "Your name's Longbottom?" he asked. Neville nodded, his chin coming up slightly. Harry had told me that morning at breakfast that Neville had changed a bit since I had come to Hogwarts. He spoke more, he volunteered in class… Harry had said it was like he had a stronger spirit with me around. And though Neville was still shy, as he had been when we were kids, he was very slowly coming out of his shell.

Turning back to the class at large, Moody reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Moody said. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "_Engorgio!_" The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretenses, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible. Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and I tensed as he muttered, "_Crucio!"_

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but I was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently. The entire class, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron, were staring at the tortured spider with frozen horror, wide eyed and jaws dropped. Looking around at Neville, I saw that his skin was pale, his fists were clenched, knuckles white, and his eyes were staring wildly at the torture session.

"Professor, stop!" I shouted, breaking the entranced spell that seemed to have fallen over the class. They all looked away, and many of them looked as though they were going to be sick.

Moody raised his wand.

The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch. _"Reducio!"_ Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back in the jar. "Pain," Moody said softly, "comes in all levels and forms, but you don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. That one was very popular once too."

I shuddered, an image of the world at war, people on the street being crucio'd flitting through my mind, before Draco's face popped into my head. I couldn't force away the image of a younger Draco, helpless and screaming, as his father put him under the curse for trying to protect his mother. My stomach heaved and I gasped, trying to take a deep breath. Harry immediately leaned closer to me, his own face pale.

"Izzy?"

"I'm fine Harry, just a little shaken, you know?" I whispered. He set his mouth in a grim line and nodded.

"Right?" Moody said, "Anyone know the last one?"

I couldn't help but look around, wondering which one of the other students would seal the fate of that last spider. It was clear what was about to happen, inevitable even, and now I worried about Harry even as I watched Neville. He was still incredibly pale and though his head was down, I could see the clear tear slide down his cheek. Though Hermione was shaking slightly beside me, her hand still rose in the air.

"Avada Kedavra," she whispered, almost forcing herself to say the words, as if she couldn't bear having them leaving her lips. Many looked uneasily around at her, including Ron, who was wide eyed.

"Ah," Moody said, another sick smile twisting his lopsided mouth, "yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra…the Killing Curse." He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar.

Is that how Harry's parents died? Doing their best to get away from Voldemort, only to be caught in the end, as the third spider was by Moody's fingers?

He placed it upon the desktop, where it started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface. And though I was now being haunted by the image of my own father's death being replayed over and over in my head, I gripped Harry's hand tightly. "Don't look, Harry." I whispered pleadingly.

But it was too late.

It was almost as though Harry's body had shut down, and wouldn't allow him to look away. His emerald green eyes were pulsing in a way that reminded me of the curse we were about to witness. Harry wasn't even breathing, and his eyes were locked on the scene directly in front of us. Suddenly, I dearly regretted taking these seats. My inner wolf's hackles rose and she growled, and though I wanted to clamp my eyes shut tight, I couldn't move. It seemed that time slowed down in that very moment, and I could hear nothing besides the thundering of my own heart in my ears. I didn't even hear Moody utter those dreaded words, but I felt the dark magic in the air and blast of air that accompanied it as the flash of nearly blinding green light shot from the tip of Moody's wand and headed for the spider. I watched it in slow motion as the curse inched more closely to the spider, and its resignation to its fate, as it stopped trying to run around the desk. It was almost heartbreaking to see the spider lose its will to live, but more so as the curse finally made contact and it rolled over, unmarked, but unmistakably dead.

The world returned to normal, as did my hearing, as several students stifled cries. Harry had my hand in a death grip, but he still wasn't moving or breathing, his eyes locked on the corpse of the third spider.

"Not nice," Moody said calmly after he'd vanished the spider's remains. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

It seemed that the intent stares of the entire class revived Harry because he finally took a deep breath and looked up at Moody with such ice in his eyes, that their normally deep green was almost transparent. Harry said nothing, but I smelled the harsh scent of anger and heard his pulse pick up.

Moody seemed to know the reaction his close proximity had on Harry, because he stepped back and leaned onto his desk again. "Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it – you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get more than a nosebleed." He lectured. But as I watched Harry's eyes get paler and paler until they were almost clear with the faintest hint of green, I wasn't so sure about that. I didn't know what was happening to Harry, but I sensed something changing within him. It was boiling up slowly, and I knew that sooner or later, Harry was going to blow.

"…doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worse is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

I peered at Harry as Moody continued on, and I saw that he seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle. One minute, his eyes would begin darkening again to their natural emerald green, only to fade and pale again a few seconds later. This continued throughout the rest of the lesson as we took notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke, but I felt that boiling inside of Harry reach a dangerous level.

"Before you leave this classroom today," Moody said only a minute before the bell was due to ring, "ask yourself: Am I willing to commit physical violence, even murder, in self-defense?"

It was a relief when the bell rang, and we packed up our things and hurried from the classroom.

As soon as we were a little ways down the corridor, I grabbed Harry and made him look me in the eye. He seemed to be worlds away judging from the partially glazed look in his eye, and at the moment, they were icily pale again.

"What the hell is going on with his eyes?" Ron said suddenly, jumping forward concernedly. Hermione hurried over, and as Harry swayed I threw his arm over my shoulder to steady him.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked quickly, trying to see where she could help.

"I don't know," I grunted honestly, "but we need to get him somewhere private before someone notices."

Ron and Hermione nodded, and Ron propped up Harry on the other side, while Hermione grabbed Harry's bag. Before we could get moving though, Hermione stopped us. "Look." She said sadly.

"Hermione, this –"

"Look!" she said more insistently, cutting off Ron.

Shifting around, we peered up a side passage and saw Neville standing there alone, staring at the wall with those same angrily blazing eyes he'd worn in the classroom during Moody's demonstration.

I was torn.

I couldn't leave Neville there after witnessing such a traumatic thing, but Harry obviously needed help. I had to make a decision, and fast…

"Hermione, come here, hurry!" I said.

The honey haired girl hurried around to where I was and I slowly shifted Harry's right arm around her shoulder so that she could help Ron hold him up. "Get him up to the seventh floor as quickly as you can and I'll follow soon. Hurry!" I said when the two hesitated.

I only watched them walk away for a second, before I turned down the side passage and placed a gentle hand on Neville's shoulder. I stood in front of him until his eyes refocused and as soon as our eyes met, I pulled the poor boy into a tight hug and immediately felt him grab onto me in a similar way that Draco had a few nights ago. I felt his body shake, and I rubbed his back, whispering soothing words.

"I k-knew I shouldn't have looked Izzy, b-but I couldn't stop m-myself!" He whispered as he held onto me for dear life. "It was horrible! It was like I could hear my parents own screams coming from that spider. I –"

"Shh Neville, it's okay, shh." I murmured softly. "I understand, I really do, and it'll be okay. When…when was the last time you visited your parents?"

"For my birthday." He whispered sadly. "They didn't even recognize me, not that I expected them to, it just –"

"Never gets any easier, no matter how much times passes?" I finished, pulling back and looking Neville directly in the eye. "You're stronger than you know Neville, that much I can promise you. And one day you'll learn to live around that gaping hole in your chest. I know it still hurts, probably unbearably sometimes…but you're not alone alright? I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you again."

I reached up and wiped away Neville's tears. "I promise I won't abandon you again, Neville. I promise."

Before Neville could respond however, an odd clunking noise arrived behind us, and we turned to see Professor Moody limping toward us. When he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than we had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on… We can have a cup of tea…"

Neville looked reluctant to be anywhere near Moody, let alone being left alone in his office with him. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon me.

"You all right, are you, Snow?"

"I'm fine," I bit out, pushing down my anger at the man I usually considered a pseudo-uncle, "sir."

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed me. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending… I know you understand that Isavéla," and my breath caught as he said my first name, "perhaps better than anyone else in that class, besides Potter. Well… come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

With a sigh of resignation, Neville began walking away with Moody. As I watched the two leave, I remembered that not only had I lost my father, but Moody has lost a close friend and comrade. Shaking away my saddening thoughts, I shadowed up to the dark alcove where Isavéla's portrait was hidden and opened it before using my senses to find the trio. They were struggling up the last few stairs onto the seventh floor when I found them, gasping for breath, and I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Abandoning all pretenses, I tossed Harry over my shoulder and began carrying him away.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, taking another gasping breath and clutching his side.

"Where are you going Izzy? The Gryffindor common room is the other way!" Hermione called worriedly.

I continued quickly as Harry began convulsing, and heard the other two running after me. As I turned into the dead end corridor that concealed East Tower's location, I heard Ron and Hermione gasp.

"Where'd she go?" Ron exclaimed.

"Izzy! Where are you?" Hermione called, panicking.

I was confused, but figured that only those of my family could see it on their own. "I'll come back for you, give me a minute!" I called back, before hurrying up the staircase and into the common room. Running straight to my bedroom, I deposited Harry on the bed and bound him with a spell to prevent him flailing and hurting himself. Using another spell so that he wouldn't bite his tongue off, I ran back down to where I'd left Ron and Hermione. It was odd. I could see them clearly as if there was nothing between us, but they were looking around as though there was a wall there. Reaching out, I grabbed one arm each and yanked them through whatever barrier separated us.

As I pulled them along, I spoke quickly. "Don't ask questions about this place, I'll tell you once I figure out what's happening to Harry. Don't distract me, and don't touch anything."

Hermione and Ron barely had time to admire the common room before I dragged them up to my bedroom where Harry was still bound on my bed. They stood a few steps back in order to give me space, and so I cast several spells over Harry, frowning as I checked the results. Cautiously, I stepped forward and felt Harry's sweaty forehead.

"He's burning up," I muttered. A second later, I yelped in pain and jerked my hand away from Harry's skin.

"What? What happened?" Ron yelled immediately.

"His skin shocked me!" I responded, stunned. Keeping about an inch of distance between my skin and Harry's, I waved my hand over his body. "It feels as though his skin has an electrical current running over it." I wracked my brain trying to figure out what was going on and how to fix him, when a suspicion began forming in my mind.

"How old is Harry?" I asked slowly.

"He just turned fourteen on July 31st." Hermione answered quickly, staring at Harry with such concern in her eyes.

"Does he ever have trouble with accidental magic or controlling spells?" I continued.

Ron and Hermione shared a long look and briefly explained Harry's incident two summers ago, when he'd accidently inflated his Aunt. Breathing a sigh of relief, I conjured three chairs beside my bed and gestured for the two to join me. "He'll be okay; I think I know what's going on."

"Well?" Ron prompted, almost impatiently.

"Well, you both know that magical children aren't born with all of their magic at once, it grows and develops as the child does." I began. "Every few years, a magical child should undergo a magical growth spurt, which causes the child to grow in size in order for their bodies to be able to handle the influx of more magic. After these growth spurts, the child will usually experience more bouts of accidental magic before the new magic settles, at least until the next growth spurt occurs. Things like traumatic events or intense emotion can induce an early growth spurt as your magic's way of providing more power in times of distress, in case you need it."

"So what you're saying is…" Hermione said slowly, "that because Harry had to witness the use of the Killing Curse in class today, it triggered some sort of reaction in his magic and induced an early magical growth spurt."

I could've kissed Hermione right then.

"Exactly, Hermione. And judging by his current symptoms, this particular growth spurt will be a powerful one. I'll help Harry control his new power as best as I can, but the best thing for him is to know that you two will support him and not judge him." I said carefully. While Hermione immediately nodded in agreement, Ron remained silent and stared at Harry with an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

I did my best to ease Harry's fever and keep him comfortable as he went through the intense process of receiving a large influx of magic into his core, but beyond that, there was nothing any of us could do besides wait and see what happened. To pass the time, I picked up the two books I had taken from the library in my home but decided to tuck them safely in my trunk in my closet, and instead summoned parchment, ink, a quill, and a textbook to use as a hard surface to write on. Charming the inkwell to float beside me, I wrote out a letter to Gnarlkin, informing him of the demise of his owl, my apology and offer to buy him a new one, as well as inquiring as to any leads on the intruder that had been picking at the wards around my house. About an hour later, my ears twitched as I picked up on the rumbling stomachs of Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, how rude of me!" I said, mentally berating myself. "Prim!"

Immediately, my house-elf popped into the room and curtsied before smiling up at me. It seemed that she carried no hard feelings from early in the week. "It is nice to see Mistress Isavéla. What can Prim do for Mistress Isavéla?" she asked squeakily.

"It's great to see you too, Prim. I miss talking to you every day over meals. But would you mind bringing up some dinner and snacks for the three of us?" I asked.

"It shall be done, Mistress Isavéla!" Prim nodded, before popping away.

"You have a personal house-elf?" Hermione asked.

"Of course, most pureblood families do. But Prim is much more like family rather than a servant." I shrugged.

Within minutes, Hermione, Ron, and I were quietly eating our dinner as we watched Harry for any sign of change. He'd finally stop thrashing about and convulsing, and simply lied there motionlessly. However, anytime I came within a few inches of him, I could feel that same electrical energy flowing around him. His physical features didn't look too much different, but I knew that that could change by morning. At this point, it was almost eleven at night and Harry hadn't stirred in the past hour. We were all getting tired but none of us wanted to look away, in case Harry woke up.

"It's late –"

"We're not leaving him." Ron said immediately, even as he yawned and tiredly rubbed his eyes.

"I figured you wouldn't want to be too far away from him, but there are plenty of rooms here so I was going to suggest that you stay the night here." I finished, grinning as Ron flushed.

"Where is _here_ anyway, Izzy? Is this where you've been sleeping since the first night here?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, this is where I'll be living during my time. As for what this place is, I'll try to explain tomorrow."

Standing up, Ron and Hermione both murmured their goodnights to Harry, unsure if he could even hear them, and then I led them out into the hall that had doors on either side. Opening the sixth year dorm door, I was awestruck as my hunch was proven correct. Because it was nighttime, the walls that were usually clouds and blue sky was now stars and the moon, and as I peered closer, I could see planets off in the distance.

"Wow," Ron and Hermione breathed.

"Hermione, you can take this room. Ron, I'll show another one across the hall. I'll send Prim to retrieve some night clothes for you both, as well as your uniforms for tomorrow." I offered.

"Thank you Izzy, and goodnight." Hermione said, a brilliant smile blooming on her lips as stepped further into the room and looked around.

I closed the door and turned around, now facing the fifth year girls' dorm. Taking a deep breath, I held onto the doorknob, turned it, and opened the door…

"Ron," I said, my breath catching, "I hope you like the beach."

After having Prim deliver the promised clothing to Ron and Hermione, I returned to my own bedroom and entered the bathroom. While I showered, I thought about all that had occurred that day, from Transfiguration to five minutes ago. It seemed that each day here at Hogwarts brought new problems, new mysteries, and new surprises. "If I have to deal with anything else, I'm going to scream." I muttered, but even as I said that, I had a feeling that this was hardly the beginning of my troubles at Hogwarts.

When I was done showering, I headed back into my bedroom in my black towel and saw that Harry's position had relaxed and he was now comfortably sprawled across my entire bed. Shaking my head, I entered my closet and pulled on black satin shorts and a sports bra, along with fuzzy socks to keep my feet warm even though there was a fireplace in my bedroom. I was unusually cold lately, and so when I returned to my room, I lit a fire in the fireplace and had Prim bring me a warm comforter. Snatching a large pillow off of my bed, I went over to the window and cocooned myself on the chaise lounge. Wiggling around, I allowed myself to relax and within seconds, I was fast asleep.


	10. History

_**A/N: This is probably my second favorite chapter so far, solely due to the story in the middle. I'd like to confess that I totally made the whole thing up, but it's believable when you really think about the way wizards treat others. However, I am anxious for my readers to find out what happens in Chapter Twelve! I hope that sets your curiosity running wild. Enjoy!**_

_Previous Chapter:_

_When I was done showering, I headed back into my bedroom in my black towel and saw that Harry's position had relaxed and he was now comfortably sprawled across my entire bed. Shaking my head, I entered my closet and pulled on black satin shorts and a sports bra, along with fuzzy socks to keep my feet warm even though there was a fireplace in my bedroom. I was unusually cold lately, and so when I returned to my room, I lit a fire in the fireplace and had Prim bring me a warm comforter. Snatching a large pillow off of my bed, I went over to the window and cocooned myself on the chaise lounge. Wiggling around, I allowed myself to relax and within seconds, I was fast asleep._

**Chapter Ten: **_**History**_

"_**Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it."**_

_BOOM!_

An explosion rocked the entire room and a discharge of immense energy accompanied it, roughly jerking me out of my deep sleep. I automatically clenched my eyes shut, somewhat expecting to be thrown back or hurt but when I felt nothing, I slowly opened my eyes. To my surprise and amazement, I was encased in what seemed to be a sphere of swirling black wisps.

_Shadows_, I realized as I reached out to touch them, only for my hand to go through it. The black wisps dispelled and I finally took in my room…

Or at least what was left of it.

Every piece of furniture, including the enormous bed, had been reduced to charred rubble, and the forest scene walls were burned black. The doors to my bathroom and closet seemed unharmed and remained closed, but everything else in my room was destroyed…besides me and the chaise lounge I was still seated on.

_What the hell happened to my room?_ I mentally screamed, before I froze.

"Did those – shadows _protect _me?" I whispered, coming up with the only explanation as to why I hadn't joined my furniture in becoming debris. Grabbing my wand, I slowly stood up, feeling heat from the burned floor beneath me seep into my socks. My first thought was that the fireplace had somehow exploded, but as I crept toward it, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

_Harry!_

I remembered the events of the previous night and I became frantic as I searched through the piles of smoldering wood and unidentifiable furniture parts. Using magic to sift through it all, I saw no sign of Harry, dead or alive. Just as my panic mounted, I heard banging on my bedroom door.

"Izzy! Are you and Harry okay?" Hermione yelled through the door.

"We felt the explosion, what the bloody hell is going on?" Ron shouted.

Running over to the door, I yanked it open and it took me a second to realize that I had tears streaming down my cheeks. "I don't know what happened!" I wailed. "I woke up because of the explosion, but my magic protected me. My room's completely destroyed but I can't find Harry!"

Stunned and horrified, Ron and Hermione ran into the ruins of my bedroom and frantically searched through the blackened bits and pieces. After several useless minutes of searching and no sign of their friend, Hermione sank to her knees as tears welled up in her eyes, and Ron looked bewildered and terrified. Just as I stepped toward Hermione, intending to comfort her until we could figure out what to do next, we all heard a familiar scream coming from the common room. Looking at each other, we all bolted towards the hall and ran full speed down the hall and into the common room in time to see a blackened figure drop to the floor. Darting forward, I dropped to my knees beside the person and turned it on its back. Watery emerald green eyes looked up at me and though he was clearly in pain, Harry somehow found a way to summon a smile for me.

"I must be in heaven," he muttered dreamily, "and I bet you're the most beautiful angel here."

Blushing brightly, I gently lifted Harry's head into my lap and stroked his cheek, rubbing off some of the soot. "Harry, you're not dead and I'm not an angel. I'm Izzy, remember?" I murmured softly.

"Izzy?" He repeated slowly, before realization dawned in his eyes and he sat up quickly. "Merlin, I'm alive!"

Taken aback at his sudden energy, I got to my feet and pulled him up. "Yes, now would you care to explain what the hell happened to you and my room?" I growled.

Suddenly sheepish, Harry scratched the back of his head. "Well, I remember Moody's lesson," Harry's face darkened, "and then being led somewhere by Ron and Hermione. After that, things get a bit dark and fuzzy. I remember being really hot and my entire body felt as though it was burning from the inside out, but I couldn't move or call out for help. I vaguely remember hearing voices, definitely yours Izzy."

My lip twitched as I quickly surprised a smile and tried to appear serious. "What else do you remember?"

Harry took a minute to glance at Ron and Hermione, who were staring at him, hanging onto his every word. "Well, I woke up – the sun was already up so it couldn't have been too long ago – and I felt weird, stretched out even."

It was then that I noticed that Harry was, in fact, several inches taller now. His body had also filled out some, but would develop nicely with larger meals and regular exercise. His hair was curlier rather than simple wild now, and his face had lost more of its childish roundness. In all, he finally looked older than a twelve-year old and I couldn't stop myself from thinking about how much handsomer he was now.

"I felt as though something was bubbling up inside my stomach, like a soft of pressure in my gut, and I tried to release it. There was a blinding light and I did hear an explosion, but I must've passed out. That's the last thing I remember before waking up a minute ago." Harry finished tiredly.

Piecing together Harry's information, I could figure out what had happened to him but I'd need to test some things first. Sighing, I looked at Harry, careful not to sound as though I was accusing him. "Well, whatever caused the explosion completely destroyed my room. It's nothing a few house-elves and some galleons can't fix in a day or two, but we'll talk about it later. Right now, we have to get ready for class."

After explaining to Harry what had really happened to him, I allowed him to use my shower, while Ron and Hermione prepared themselves in the bedrooms I had given them the previous night. As I donned my uniform in my walk-in closet, I thought more on my suspicions as to what had happened to Harry this morning. If my thoughts were correct, then Harry would have a long, precarious road ahead of him in trying to control his new power. Of course, I'd help him in any way I can but there were some things that Harry would have to figure out on his own. After adjusting my scarlet and gold tie, I allowed my mass of curly obsidian hair to fall down my back and admired myself in the mirror. My eyes traveled down the length of my body, being drawn to the gleam of my family's signet ring that resided on my left ring finger. Absently, I twisted the ring around, feeling an odd connection to the image of the Grim Reaper that peered up me from underneath his shadowy hood.

"Izzy?"

The connection was broken as I heard Harry call my name, and I sighed before grabbing my bag and exiting out into the remains of my bedroom. "Yes, Harry?" I asked, now having a better view of just how much Harry had physically changed now that he had washed off all the soot.

"Have you seen my glasses? It's amazing," he breathed, "I can see perfectly clear without them but I'm so used to wearing them, it feels odd to not have them on my face."

How could I not have noticed that Harry no longer had those bulky glasses covering his beautiful emerald green eyes?

"I'm sorry Harry, but they were probably destroyed in the blast." I said apologetically.

"No don't apologize; I always hated those glasses anyway." Harry grinned slightly and gestured to the door. "Should we head down to breakfast, then?"

"Yes, I'm starved." I said, laughing.

We met Ron and Hermione out in the common room where they were seated in two of the comfortable chairs positioned in half-circle around the huge fireplace. When they saw that we were ready, the two of them stood up and we headed for the door. "Harry, where are your glasses?" Hermione asked, staring at Harry as I led them down the stairs towards Isavéla's portrait.

Harry grinned. "I don't need them anymore, and they were probably destroyed anyway."

"What do you mean you don't need them anymore? You've had those glasses for as long as I've known you, mate." Ron said, confused.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose it's a benefit of the growth spurt." He guessed.

After saying goodbye to Isavéla, I led the trio outside of the barrier that protected East Tower and we headed in the direction of the Great Hall, where we found Draco waiting at the top of the staircase. He smiled as he saw me, but his smile disappeared as he caught sight of Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

"Good morning Izzy," he said politely as he gently took my bag from me.

"Good morning to you too Draco," I smiled. "How are you?"

He briefly glanced over at the other three and shook his head. "I'm fine, but I need to talk to you – privately." He added pointedly.

I bit my lip and sighed. "I'm sorry Draco, but I'm tutoring Harry after class today…" As I saw Draco's dejection and anger appear in his eyes, I quickly reassured him. "But tomorrow is Saturday and we don't have classes. We can hang out and talk then, just me and you, okay?"

"Okay Izzy," Draco agreed, though his mood had obviously dropped for the rest of the walk to the Great Hall. When we entered, he handed me my bag and separated to go sit at the Slytherin Table without a word. Confused, I led the way to the Gryffindor Table and we four sat in our usual seats. Breakfast that morning was quieter than usual amongst us, and as the morning post was delivered, my beautiful black owl, Ario, swooped into the Great Hall, catching the attention of all, before he gracefully landed on my shoulder.

"Where have you been, Ario?" I cooed as I lovingly stroked his soft feathers. He hooted contently and nudged my hand. "Oh fine," I said fondly, breaking off a piece of my toast and feeding it to him. I allowed him to drink from my goblet of water seeing as I was finished with it, and when he was done, I gave him my letter for Gnarlkin. "Take this to our favorite little goblin, Ario, and wait for a response."

Just then, Harry's own beautiful snowy white owl Hedwig delivered a note to him. He seemed to have been waiting for the note and practically vibrated with anticipation. After also feeding his own owl, Ario and Hedwig flew out of the Hall together and I couldn't help but grin at them. On the way to History of Magic, while Harry seemed to be fighting himself not to rip open the letter he'd received, I had too much on my mind to truly pay attention. During the walk, I called Prim and instructed her to gather a few Hogwarts elves to help her fix my bedroom. I gave her permission to remove some galleons from my vault and go buy new, almost identical furniture, from a magical furniture store. She assured me that the project would be done by the time dinner was over that night, and I thanked her before trying and failing to focus on learning History. Because of my distracted mindset, I set up a Dicta Quill to take my History notes for me today.

"Just this once," I told Hermione, who puffed up indignantly when she saw what I'd done.

Harry seemed to have forced himself to calm down and wait to open the note he'd received, but didn't seem to be paying attention to Binns' lecture either. On the contrary, within five minutes, Harry and Ron had covered their desks in scraps of parchment bearing sums and symbols. They were using this time to catch up on their divination homework. Rolling my eyes, I decided to distract myself by watching their rather amusing attempts to come up with an entire month's worth of dreams in about an hour.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said softly, staring down at a long list of calculations.

"You know," Ron said finally, his hair on end because of all the times he'd run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think its back to the old Divination standby."

"What—make it up?"

Stifling a snort, I nudged Harry. "Ron's actually right, for once. Even with real Seers, most of Divination is all about predictions and interpretations; nothing is really concrete when it comes to that subject. You'd probably go farther if you just guess."

"Then let's get to it," Ron whispered, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

"Next Monday," he read as he scribbled, only glancing up to make sure Binns wasn't looking our way, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her—just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."

Shaking my head, I noticed that even Hermione was peering at the two boys as Binns paused in his droning lecture.

"Right," Harry said, crumpling up his first attempt and leaning back in his seat to toss it into the trash bin by the door. "Okay… On Monday, I will be in danger of err—burns."

"Yeah, you will be," Ron said darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll… erm…"

"Wait, skrewts?" I whispered.

"Oh right," Ron said, finally looking directly at me, "you were out of it for Monday's lesson, lucky that. But you'll see - they're another one of Hagrid's _pets_."

From what the trio had told me of Hagrid and his love of dangerous animals, and the fact that I had never heard of skrewts until now, did not bode well.

"Anyways, Tuesday," Harry said, flicking through his Divination textbook for ideas, "you'll lose a treasured possession."

"Good one," Ron said, copying it down. "Because of…erm…Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

Something cold slithered down my spine at those words and a feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed me for a split second. I had a feeling that Ron's made-up prediction held more truth than any of them knew, but how? Could it just be a coincidence?

It had to be.

"Yeah…cool…" Harry said obliviously, scribbling it down, "Because…Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worse in a fight."

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet."

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight…"

I began giggling at this, covering my mouth with my hand so as not to attract attention to our little corner in the back. Hermione, on my right, was leaned over a notebook, scribbling furiously in it, only glancing up at the three of us every few minutes.

The boys continued to make up predictions – which grew steadily more tragic – for the rest of the class period, and I was hard pressed not to let out the laughter that threatened to crack one of my ribs as I held it in. About a little more than halfway through the class, Hermione straightened up with a brilliant smile.

"I've finished!" she whispered excitedly.

"So have I!" Ron said triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

"Oh let me see that," she huffed, pulling Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," he countered.

"You seem to be drowning twice," Hermione pointed out.

"Oh am I?" Ron said, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. "Honestly Ron, where are you going to run into a rampaging hippogriff?"

"With Hagrid around, anything's possible!" he insisted in mock-outrage, "and how dare you! We've been working like house-elves here!"

At Hermione's expression, he backtracked. "It's just an expression," he said hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation. "What's that you've got there, Mione?" he asked quietly, pointing to Hermione's notebook.

"Funny you should ask," Hermione said, but right then, the bell rang and class ended. As we packed up our things and Ron and Harry cleaned up their litter, Hermione showed us a page in her notebook.

"Spew?" I asked slowly, reading the large letters at the top of the page. "That doesn't sound too appealing…"

"Not spew," Hermione said impatiently as we entered the corridor and wandered slowly, as we had a break now. "It's S-P-E-W. It stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," Ron shrugged.

"Well, of course you haven't," Hermione said briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" Ron said with mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well—if you three join—four," Hermione admitted.

"And you think we want to walk around supporting something called _spew_, do you?" Ron said.

"S-P-E-W!" Hermione said hotly, attracting odd stares from other students in the corridor. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status—but I didn't think it would fit on a button. So that's the heading of our manifesto." She brandished the notebook at us.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione—open your ears." Ron said loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Actually, both of you are wrong. But Ron, I'm surprised that you don't know the story – or rather, the history behind elf slavery." I said suddenly.

"Well?" Harry said, his lip twitching at Hermione and Ron's expressions.

"Centuries ago, before Hogwarts was built, before even my family was around, there was a great and terrible war between species," I began as we stopped in a partially deserted corridor and I hopped up onto the window sill. "I don't exactly remember what specifically started it, neither did my mother when she used to tell me the tale as a bedtime story…but it was the worst war our world had ever seen until the war against Grindelwald and then the Blood War. During that time, tensions were high in our world, no one trusted anyone of a different species, but no one wanted to be the first to make a move because everyone knew that war would immediately follow. But then, seemingly random attacks and disappearances began amongst the goblins. So high strung and wound up, they attacked their greatest enemies – the humans."

"Without proof?" Hermione gasped. The looks Ron and Harry shot her made her mouth snap shut. They wanted to hear the rest of the story.

"To answer your question Hermione," I grinned, "yes, they attacked without proof. For we humans had always held ourselves above the goblins, despite their better battle skills, we thought ourselves the superior race. We had forbidden them to practice wand magic, even though they had magic of their own, and had taken away most of their liberties. There had been hundreds of minor battles and scuffles between us and the goblins before that, the many Goblin Rebellions that Binns goes on about, but nothing as large and bloody as this. Anyways, because of the hatred between our species, these two were the first to declare war against the other. After about two years of constant fighting, there was an intense battle that took place down by Hogsmeade centuries before it was even planned, and a young centaur had wandered out of the forest to see what all the commotion was about. He'd gotten caught out in the crossfire between the goblins and the wizards, and before he could run back to the safety of the forest – he was killed."

I could tell that Hermione was near bursting, but she held in whatever it was that she wanted to release – whether it was a noise or a question.

"No one truly knows which side had struck down the centaur, and both sides blamed the other, however, the centaurs would hear none of their excuses and declared war on both species, with the help of the merpeople that reside in the Black Lake right now. Not many people know that merpeople also have a magic all their own that allows them to leave the water for small periods of time, as long as they return before that time is up. Using that ability, the merpeople attacked at night when the humans and goblins were both exhausted from fighting each other and the centaurs all day." I paused to lick my lips, before thinking, and picking up where I left off.

"The vampires—"

Now Hermione and Harry gasped, and all three of them paled.

"Oh come on, I know you lot learn about them your first three years of Defense Against the Dark Arts. They _are_ one of the oldest species, particularly because they're immortal." I said, as if it should be obvious. "Anyways, the vampires – who, of course, saw humans as their food source, saw this war as a blood buffet, of sorts. In the night, they took the injured and dragged them away to drink from, letting the humans think that it was one of the other species involved. The werewolves –" I ignored Harry's tensed posture, "who have had their own hatred and ongoing fighting with the vampires, had heard rumors of the vampires' involvement, and began to attack them during the full moon every month, often killing other species or turning humans because they had lost control. However, when a newly turned werewolf had snuck into a wizarding camp and murdered an important man, the humans turned on the werewolves, even though they'd had a tentative alliance against the vampires."

"After almost six more years of constant fighting, and every species taking incredible losses, the leaders of each species came together for a meeting on no-man's land and decided that one final battle would decide the victor. At this point, none of them even remembered what had started the war, but the stakes were higher than just pride then, for they had agreed that the last species standing would take control of our world."

Ron gaped openly, Hermione looked as though her wildest dreams were unfolding right before her, and Harry…Harry was a combination of the two.

"They were just going to wipe out the other species?" Hermione asked quietly.

"This was war, Hermione, war means death – and lots of it. In war, there has to be a winner, and in order for there to be a winner –"

"There has to be losers." She finished.

"Anyways, they had agreed to meet on these very grounds, because it was one of the only places that all of the species involved could access. The forests held the vampires, werewolves, and centaurs. The wizards and goblins already had camps nearby, and the merpeople lived in the Black Lake there," I said, looking out the window, my eyes glossing over as I imagined it in my mind. "They had agreed to fight under the full moon, to give the werewolves a fair advantage, and when it was time to gather, each species had rallied all of their forces in one place. There were no final words or threats or pleasantries explained as you usually hear before an epic battle, only deathly silence as every species wait for the battle to begin. Just as the full moon rose in the sky, and the werewolves transformed before everyone's eyes, a battle cry was shouted, and the fighting began."

"Within minutes, dozens and dozens of bodies littered these very grounds. When you walk across the grass, can you imagine stepping in the same place where a werewolf or vampire or wizard had fallen? It's amazing to think of the incredible secrets and history that lay buried beneath this place." I said, almost getting lost in the historic nostalgia I was suddenly feeling. "You can't imagine the kind of carnage that took place here, and when half of everyone's forces had been decimated, an incredible thing happened – the elves appeared on the battle field."

"What?"

"House-elves?"

"No way!"

Grinning down at the trio, I shook my head. "No, not house-elves, I mean the original elves, the true elves. They were slightly shorter than us, but looked like beautiful humans. They had the pointy ears as you might expect, long fingers and feet, grace and strength, all of it. And the only magic in the world that could rival a wizard's. Anyway, a bunch of them appeared on the battlefield and they were horrified at what they found. Using their magic, they stopped the fighting and forced everyone to listen to them. Elves are usually a peaceful race, they are incredible fighters and magic users, but prefer to use both for self-defense and the bettering of their people. And so, the elves began to tell an amazing story of vengeance. Because the humans were so threatened by them, they didn't even consider the elves as beings, and regarded them as lower than scum. This angered the Elfish race, for they were also proud creatures, and so they devised a plan to show the humans the hurt and humiliation that they had received at the hands of the humans. They confessed to being the cause of the disappearance and deaths amongst the goblins at the very beginning; they admitted that it was due to their influence that the young centaur was killed and that the newly turned werewolf had wandered into a wizarding camp, resulting in the death of that important wizard. They'd conceded that they hadn't expected the involvement of the vampires, but had turned it their advantage. They –"

"Turned everyone against the humans!" Hermione gasped suddenly. "They manipulated the whole war so that all of the other species would attack us!"

"Exactly." I said, my grin fading. "After they had finished their tale, they expressed their regret because of the immense loss on all sides but this did not appease the different species. In a unanimous vote, it was decided that the elves had to face a punishment that would fit their crimes against our world, and so each species came together for the first and probably only time in history and combined their magic. With this combined power, they turned every elf into what the humans saw them as – scum, and cursed them to an eternity of servitude to the species they despised most – the humans. Thus, the creation of house-elves." I finished, taking a bow.

Right on time, the bell rang and it was time for us to head to Charms, but the trio was too stunned to move, or even speak. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"That's – that's so harsh!" she said angrily.

"Hermione, they tried to wipe us out!" Ron countered. "Those little nutters almost got us all killed because their _feelings_ were hurt!"

"Actually Ron, I'm not sure I agree with you." Harry said slowly. "But I don't agree with you either Hermione." He added as the girl shot Ron a smug look. "It sounded like we had it coming, Ron, with the way we treated every other species, as if we were better. I figure that even if the elves hadn't started the war, it would've happened eventually anyway. No, we didn't deserve such a heavy loss to our population – none of the species deserved it, but like Izzy said, that was centuries and centuries ago, don't they think it's been long enough?"

"Oh, some of the more sympathetic species have tried over the centuries to have the elves restored to their true selves, but that would take the agreement and magic of all of the leaders of the species originally involved in that war." I explained.

"That was an amazing story, Izzy," Hermione said suddenly, "I wish Professor Binns would teach us stuff like that."

"Yeah, I bet everyone would pay attention if class was more like your storytelling." Harry grinned. "Maybe you should be a History teacher."

"I don't know…" I said. I had other things in mind. "Hermione, no offense, but you don't have the power to restore the elves. There have always been rumors and a healthy amount of suspicion that the house-elves are simply biding their time until they'd have their own rebellion, or try to change themselves back."

"Is that possible?" Ron said, wide-eyed.

I shrugged. "Who knows?" I said mysteriously.

"So I've done all this work for nothing?" Hermione moaned in despair.

"Not for nothing Hermione, maybe you can't get the elves freed, but perhaps you could be the person that got them a little slack. I wouldn't give up if I were you, Mione." I said, gently squeezing the girl's shoulder.

"Thanks Izzy, and no, I don't think I will give up." She said, holding her fist up in determination.

The rest of the day passed with my mind wandering off, thinking about the story my mother had told me and I had now passed on to others. Harry's comment about me being a History teacher kept bouncing around in my head. Because of my family having been around for so long, the stories and books that each member has contributed to the main library, I knew perhaps thousands of stories about this world, and I loved it. Today, however, I discovered that I loved storytelling as well.

Perhaps Harry had a point.

It was that night in the Gryffindor common room, as Harry and I took a break from Potions tutoring to simply relax and laze about. Hermione was scribbling away in her SPEW notebook again, while Ron had charmed his chessboard to play against him.

"Harry, what did Hedwig bring you this morning?" Ron asked, glancing up from the board for a split second.

"Oh right!" Harry said, bolting up and diving for his bag. "She's got an answer!"

I was confused as Hermione and Ron both dropped what they were doing and gathered around Harry, peering over his shoulder.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"What are you all so excited about?" I couldn't help but ask.

The three of them looked at me quickly, before sharing long looks. I waited patiently, only raising an eyebrow as the three had a silent conversation with their eyes. Ten minutes later, and I was staring at the trio in a new light. "Wow," I whistled, "and I'm guessing that no one here's ever heard that version of your adventures? Not even Dumbledore?"

"No, and we'd really like to keep it that way." Harry stressed.

I gave him a disarming smile. "I get it Harry, our little secret. But –" I bit my lip, "but why'd you decide to tell me? You hardly know me."

"Because you're one of us now, you're our friend and we trust you." Hermione said honestly.

"So the letter – it's from _him_?" I asked quietly, trying to cover the sudden thickness in my voice from the emotion I was feeling.

"Yes, so let's read it."

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:

_Harry—_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore—they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is. I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry._

—_Sirius_

Harry looked up at us, we stared back at him.

"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" Ron said, looking perplexed. "Harry—what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist. "I shouldn't have told him!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you on about?" Ron said in surprise.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" Harry said, now slamming his fist on the table. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me!"

"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said shortly. "See you in the morning."

He got up to storm to the dorm, but I glanced at his shadow on the floor and he froze. Taking control of his shadow, I forced Harry to turn around and sit back down with us. When I let go of my control, the three of them stared at me, horrified, even though my expression hadn't changed.

"What the hell _was_ that?" Harry almost yelled.

"Family secret." I said, shrugging. "I apologize for that, but you're not going anywhere, and if you try to get up again, I'll do it again – with more force."

Harry glared at me, and I simply raised an eyebrow at him. "Fine," he ground out.

"Sirius is practically the only real family you have left Harry, and he hasn't had a chance to be there for you until now. Can't you see that he's trying to make up for that now? He cares about you, probably more than you know, and he just wants to make sure you're safe." I said, staring Harry directly in the eye. "He fought and lived through the Blood War Harry, don't you think he knows all about coercion and compulsion spells? He needs to see with his own eyes that you really are okay, and that no one's standing over your shoulder while you write to him, forcing you to say that you're safe. He's need that kind of peace of mind or it'll kill him inside, are you really going to take that from him because you're worried?"

When Harry switched from glaring at me to glaring at the floor, I continued. "He's a grown man Harry, and I'm pretty sure that if he can escape from _Azkaban_ and evade the Aurors for this long, he can continue to do so, especially when he's determined to see his beloved godson. Besides, it sounds as though he was already planning on returning because of these rumors he's been hearing and the signs that Dumbledore's reading. That's not your fault, nor is it your fault that your scar is hurting and you're having odd dreams."

I paused for a moment and wracked my brain before shaking my head. "That's not normal Harry, not even for a curse scar. Curse scars, if not properly healed and cleansed, but perhaps contained in one spot so as not to spread, will only continue to affect the person the way it was meant to when the curse was first cast; they don't develop new side effects. That curse was meant to kill you Harry, not give you bad dreams, so you shouldn't be having them." I explained seriously. "You should definitely continue informing Sirius about your scar, he might be able to find something that you can't."

Finally, Harry sighed and conceded that I had an excellent point.

"No more of that storming off Harry, if you can't vent to your own friends, who can you vent to?" I said as we all stood up and stretched. "Well, this has been an interesting day, and I don't know about you three but I am exhausted. I'll see you guys in the morning.

"You're going back to that place, aren't you?" Hermione called as I began walking to the portrait hole. "What is that?"

I grinned mysteriously. "Also a family secret, but perhaps I'll show you again. Goodnight." I called over my shoulder as I left.

As I slinked easily through the corridors towards East Tower, my mind was racing and had been ever since I'd been given the full story by Harry. It was amazing that the three of them could accomplish so much at such young ages and with so little training, but that also made me suspicious. There were a lot of holes and obvious signs that should've alerted them, but they were content to believe that they were heroes, and who was I to burst their bubble? The information at the forefront of my mind however, was of course, Sirius Black. He was the one man that could get Draco and his mother away from Lucius Malfoy. I had been killing myself trying to figure out how I was going to find him, and thanks to Harry –

He'd just fallen into my lap.


	11. Acceptance

_Previous Chapter:_

_As I slinked easily through the corridors towards East Tower, my mind was racing and had been ever since I'd been given the full story by Harry. It was amazing that the three of them could accomplish so much at such young ages and with so little training, but that also made me suspicious. There were a lot of holes and obvious signs that should've alerted them, but they were content to believe that they were heroes, and who was I to burst their bubble? The information at the forefront of my mind however, was of course, Sirius Black. He was the one man that could get Draco and his mother away from Lucius Malfoy. I had been killing myself trying to figure out how I was going to find him, and thanks to Harry –_

_He'd just fallen into my lap. _

**Chapter Eleven: Acceptance**

"_**A goal without a plan is just a wish."**_

Brilliant sunlight washed over my skin and I hummed as I burrowed deeper into my new pillows, enjoying the clean linen scent of them. The warmth of the sun on my bare back soothed me and I would've easily fallen back asleep if it wasn't for my new alarm clock shrieking to life. Pushing myself up onto my hands and knees, I stretched my arms forward and arched my back low as I yawned, stretching as a wolf does. Blinking and peering blearily around my room, I couldn't help but smile slightly and mentally thank not only the elves for restoring it the previous night, but also my ancestor for having such a beautiful place built for his descendants to live in. As I rolled out of bed onto my feet, I padded into my bathroom and took care of bladder needs before looking around and pondering.

"Well, it is Saturday and I don't have class today…" I murmured.

Decision made, I began drawing a bath for myself in the pool-sized bathtub. As the steam rose and I mixed in honey-scented bath oils and bubble bath, I inhaled deeply and felt myself relax even further. It would take a while for the bath to fill up with water and so to pass the time, I retrieved my Wizarding Wireless from my trunk and set it up on my vanity, turning it up as I heard the beginnings of one my favorite songs performed by the Weird Sisters. Humming the song, I returned to my closet and began picking through my clothes, trying to decide what I would wear for the day. I was a little tired of wearing my uniform, especially as I had so much nice clothing to choose from and most of it still had tags attached. A few minutes later, I eventually decided on black shorts that came up to my waist, a long-sleeved black sheer blouse with gold buttons, black flowery tights, and black boots with gold laces. Laying the outfit out across the chaise lounge in my closet, I headed back into the bathroom and stopped the running water as the bath was now full. As I stripped out of my underclothes, I allowed my inner wolf to fully merge with me and instantly felt an immense increase in my senses and power. Stepping down into the hot water, I sighed happily and sank down until the water was up to my neck and steam rose up around me. Listening to the music projecting from my Wizarding Wireless, I swam around and soaked for at least an hour. When I was properly cleaned and refreshed, I set the water to drain, wrapped myself in a black towel, and headed back into my closet.

As I sat down at my vanity and picked up the ivory brush that had once been my mother's, I paused and stared at myself in the mirror. I was almost surprised to see that I looked better than ever. After the week I'd had – from obtaining a head injury, to the problems and stress that seemed to pile up, and my first real lessons, I had expected to show signs of fatigue. But no, there were no bags or dark circles under my glowing amber eyes, my hair was as luscious and shiny as always, and my figure couldn't be better. Grinning, I ran my tongue over my fangs and contemplated pushing my inner wolf back into my core. As if sensing my intentions, I felt a wave of sadness and shame wash over me, though they weren't my feelings – they were hers.

Did I make her feel ashamed of herself?

I could understand how she would feel that way. I hid her away except in private, afraid of what everyone around me would say and do, if they would see me as a monster. But that wasn't the right thing to do. I only truly felt like myself when we were merged together and I hated holding back just as much as she hated being suppressed. I briefly thought back to what Draco had whispered to me the day he'd hugged me in front of the entire school.

"_I lost you as my friend once, I won't lose you again…image be damned…"_

Draco, who prided his image almost more than anything else, had practically thrown that away when he'd hugged me, a Gryffindor, in front of everyone. He'd done it without fear or hesitation, and if he could do that, why couldn't I show my true self to everyone as well? "If these people are my real friends, they'll accept me either way." I muttered to myself.

With a wave of determination, I assured my inner wolf that she wouldn't have to return to my core and I could feel her joy radiating through me, causing me to smile. Peering at my black claws, I focused on retracting them and resumed humming as I brushed my obsidian hair until it fell in shiny waves, instead of curls. I pulled the front back and secured it with a heavy gold hair comb, allowing the rest to fall down my back. Once my hair was done, I dressed myself in my chosen outfit and opted for black diamond earrings and a matching bracelet. When I was finished dressing, I strapped my wand to my right thigh and watched it shimmer in its holster before disappearing as usual. Standing up, the feeling of true power thrummed through my entire body, from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet and I reveled in it. I could feel, smell, and even taste the difference in the air around me, and for once, I enjoyed the feeling of being different and powerful. Grabbing my bag, empty of its usual school books, I left East Tower and headed down to the Great Hall to grab a late breakfast.

It seemed that most of the school rose late on Saturday, and so I wasn't the only one heading down to the Great Hall. As I walked casually, well aware of how amazing I looked, it was almost staggering to feel and smell the different emotions radiating from the hundreds of students heading in the same direction as I was; to be able to sense everything around me, from ghosts to students to pets that had escaped their owners' common rooms was astounding and reassuring. It would be nearly impossible to be caught off guard with this sort of three hundred and sixty degree range of awareness. The musky scent of lust and longing pouring off of some males and several females caused a small smirk to grace my lips as I stepped off the final step on the first floor and walked down the corridor towards the huge, open Great Hall doors. Though the entire Hall glanced my way and seemed to do a jaw-dropped double-take, it was Draco's expression that caught my attention immediately. His lips were parted in surprise, as if he only just caught his jaw from joining the rest of the students' on the floor, and his stormy grey eyes were as bright as I'd ever seen them. The pink tinge in his cheeks seemed to match the faint scent of arousal and attraction that I smelled on him and my smirk bloomed into a dazzling, fanged smiled as I approached the poor boy.

Waving my hand in front of his face, I laughed. "Draco," I said, drawing out the '_o_', "are you alright?"

"Huh?" he said, shaking his head. "Wow Izzy, you – wow. And your eyes are – wow…"

Giggling, I playfully hit Draco's firm chest. "I'll take that as a compliment Draco, but don't forget that we'll be hanging out today, okay?"

"It's a date, I'll see you later." He said, kissing my forehead, as had become the norm for us.

As he headed for the Slytherin Table, I noticed the boys there were undressing me with their eyes and the girls were either glaring daggers at me or the boys seated with them. Pansy – her expression one of utter rage and pure unadulterated hate – almost amused me. I grinned and gave her a little wave before practically skipping to the Gryffindor Table and sitting down between Harry and Neville.

"Good morning you lot," I said cheerfully as I began to pile my plate with my meaty breakfast.

"Err – g-good morning Izzy," Harry said, his face incredibly red. "You look – b-beautiful." He choked out. "As always."

"Aww, thank you Harry," I said sweetly, kissing him on the cheek.

The fact that I could sense his blood rushing south and smell his attraction permeating the air only made my smile grow large. I had to wonder, however, if this sudden increase in attention from the male population was due to my choice of outfit or some odd Lycan allure. Ron was openly gaping at me, his eyes and mouth wide open, but Hermione was staring at me with something in her eyes – it wasn't envy, but perhaps a sort of sadness or longing. In my eyes, Hermione had a classic natural sort of beauty with her honey colored hair, cinnamon brown eyes, and slightly full pink lips. Her tanned skin and slim but curvy figure should've been enough to turn heads, but it was most likely due to the fact that she hid her body underneath frumpy clothes and shapeless robes that she kept close.

"How are you Neville?" I asked, turning away from Hermione. He had his nose buried in a book and I had to call his name twice more before he jerked to attention.

"Huh? Oh – err – sorry Izzy, I was just reading this book Moody gave me Thursday." He tilted the book so that I could see the cover: _Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean_. "Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology." There was a faint note of pride in his tone that was hardly ever present, and I couldn't help but smile softly at him.

"So, you're alright? You know I'm here if you ever need to really talk, Nev." I said, patting his back soothingly. He flashed me a brilliant smile.

"Yes, I know Izzy. It – it took me a while, but I know that my parents wouldn't want me fall apart every time I'm reminded of that day." He whispered, his smile turning slightly sad. "I know that they love me and that they only did what they did to protect me, and that's all that really matters, right?"

"That's right Neville, good on you.

As we ate breakfast, chatting about random topics as they popped into mind, I glanced at Harry and saw that he was absently eating, staring up at the open windows, his eyes far away. I couldn't help but take in his toned but thin figure. He'd certainly gotten taller as a result of his growth spurt, but he must've been malnourished as child, even though it had probably improved greatly since he'd come to Hogwarts. Harry should've never been as short as he had been before his growth spurt and considering his position on the Quidditch team and the fact that he already had an enormous amount of power, his body should be bigger to sustain it all. Harry would never be bulky or a bodybuilder type, but he could certainly pack on some muscle with a bit of help. When breakfast ended and we all stood up to disperse and enjoy the weekend, I was approached by Madam Pomfrey, who smiled at me.

"Miss Snow, I hope that you have not changed your mind about helping me in the Hospital Wing?" she began.

"Of course not, Madam Pomfrey, I'd be happy to help in any way that I can." I reassured her, easily returning her smile.

"That's wonderful dear, and Professor Snape has informed me what a wonderful potions brew you are, even showed me a sample and I must say that I'm impressed. I'm running a bit low on quite a few potions, and so your first task in helping me is to replenish them." Madam Pomfrey instructed.

"Not a problem, ma'am. I can get started immediately, if you have a list of what potions you need me to brew?" I asked, feeling a familiar anticipation grow inside of me at the challenge.

After removing a list written on a scrap of parchment, Madam Pomfrey handed it to me and watched me skim the list. "None of these will be a problem, Madam Pomfrey. I can have most done by tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest." I informed her.

"Excellent timing, dear, excellent. Professor Snape has graciously granted you permission to use his potions lab as well as his personal ingredients, as he usually does this task for me. However, he has a lot of work to do, so we both thank you for your help." she said.

"Yes ma'am," I said, smiling brightly. When she walked away, I gave the trio apologetic looks. "I suppose I have some work to do. I'll come check on you lot later."

Glancing around, I saw my white-blonde friend near the doors, and hurried over to him. "Draco! Draco, wait!" I called over the chatter of hundreds of students. He looked back and stopped walking, though I saw Pansy doing her damnedest to yank him along with her. I could smell his annoyance as we approached each other and smirked as I watched Pansy string herself along with him.

"Good morning Pug – oops, I mean Pansy," I greeting, shooting her a fanged smile.

She seemed taken aback at the sight of them, but smirked viciously. "Good morning to you too Orphan – oops, I mean Izzy," she shot back. The air around us seemed to crackle with negative energy and I fought down the urge to snap at her throat with my fangs.

"It's Isavéla, you mutt!" I snapped angrily, feeling my fingernails tingle as my claws shot out. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I took a deep breath and retracted them once more, plastering a bright smile on my face. I gave Draco a friendly hug, though he was clearly still reeling from my and Pansy's greetings to each other, but he immediately yanked his hand from hers and wrapped his arms around me. Looking over Draco's shoulder, I gave Pansy the finger and grinned victoriously at her expression. When I pulled back, I smiled up at Draco.

"Dray, do you think you could help me with something?" I asked sweetly.

"Of course Izzy, anything." He said quickly.

The wonderful scent of fury filled my nostrils and I almost reveled in Pansy's envy at the moment.

"You see, I'm somewhat apprenticing under Madam Pomfrey, helping her in the Hospital Wing and such, and she needs me to brew up a load of potions for her. It would take much less time if I had the help of a talented brewer like you."

Draco smirked down at me. "Flattery will get you everywhere Izzy, but I'd love to help. When should I –"

"I thought you were hanging out with _me _today Draco!" Pansy growled suddenly, her face rather red.

"Izzy needs my help, Pansy," Draco said dryly, "with something more important than listening to you constantly talk." I held in the howl of laughter that I desperately wanted to release, but mentally applauded myself instead.

_Izzy: 1, Pug-face: 0_

"Come on Draco, I want to get started on this as soon as possible." I said, taking his hand and tugging him away from an angrily stunned Pansy. "Bye pug," I shot over my shoulder as I pulled Draco along with me.

"Why do you and Pansy still hate each other so much?" Draco asked, a grin tugging at his lips as we walked towards Professor Snape's office.

"Because that _dog_ almost cut my throat when she chopped off all of my hair back when we were five! It is common knowledge that five-year olds should _not_ handle sharp knives!" I growled, angry as the memory still stung with humiliation. Luckily, my mother had been able to magically regrow my hair when I had floo-called her, screaming about how I was going to end the Parkinson line.

"If I remember correctly, you used accidental magic and actually turned her into a pug until my parents showed up and reversed it." Draco said, clearly trying to hold in hearty laughter.

My own lips twitched as those particular images cropped up in my mind. "She deserved it," was all I said before Draco and I cleared our faces and knocked on the Snape's office door.

A curt "Come in!" granted us permission to open the door, and as we stepped inside, I was almost surprised by how normal Snape's office looked. It was only my years of training and experience that allowed me to mask my surprise, and the flush that threatened to bloom as I thought back to my sexual assault of the man seated before me. His office was tastefully decorated in natural colors, instead of all black as one would normally expect of this man.

"The lab is through those doors," Snape said without looking up from the parchment he was scribbling over, "and the cupboard with the ingredients in it is clearly labeled. That cupboard is usually locked and warded, but I have removed both for the time being. I trust that two intelligent students such as yourselves can complete this task without my observation."

"Yes sir," Draco and I said in unison as we walked towards the unmarked dark wooden door near Snape's desk. As we passed his large polished wooden desk, I couldn't help but glance at the parchment he was writing on, and grinned as I saw that it must be an essay that he was grading, considering the fact that it was covered in red ink. Poor kid, whoever the essay belonged to.

As Draco and I set up several stations at which to brew the potions from the list I had received from Madam Pomfrey, I bit my lip and wondered if this was the right time to bring up Sirius. There was one major factor in my silence at the moment, however…the fact that Harry and the others had entrusted that kind of secret and information to me. I couldn't betray Harry that way, but Draco and his mother needed me. This information could be the difference between their salvation and leaving them in that hell on earth called Malfoy Manor.

I sighed deeply as I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and lit the fire beneath my cauldron. "So Draco, what did you want to tell me this morning?" I asked as I pulled out a book that contained the instructions to the potions we were supposed to be brewing, and ran my finger down the table of contents.

"My father somehow found out that I've been hanging around you lately." Draco said quietly.

I looked up at him quickly, trying to gauge his emotions, but his mask was good as mine, if not better. "It's not like we were trying to be discreet Dray, but how'd he find out?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised if he has someone within my house keeping an eye on me." He said angrily.

"Well, what did he say about it?" I continued, forcing myself to keep looking through the book as I gathered the needed ingredients and separated them into groups based on the potions they were intended for.

"I received a letter from him last night. He thinks it's a good idea for me to get close to you again, but – but he wants me to use you to spy on Potter." Draco revealed.

"What?" I snapped. "You told him no, right?" But then I backtracked and took a deep breath, realizing what would happen to him if he disobeyed his father. "I'm sorry; of course you can't tell him that. What are you going to do, Draco? You know I'll do what I can to help, but I can't betray Harry's trust like that."

"I know you wouldn't, that's not the kind of person you are," Draco said, almost sadly, "which is probably why you weren't sorted into Slytherin. Half of the people in my House would sell their own siblings for a leg up in the world. But I'd never put you in that sort of position. I told him that I would try to gleam some sort of information, what else could I say to him? But now I'm stuck."

I reached out and squeezed his hand. "We'll figure this out, Draco, we will. But perhaps the information that I have to share with you might make you feel better."

Draco peered curiously at me. "And what information is that?"

"I've learned some information about Sirius Black," I said carefully, "but I can't tell you how."

He snorted. "You obviously got it from Potter." At my thunderstruck expression, he explained. "It is common knowledge amongst most people that Black is Potter's godfather, and my father told me that Black was never a Death Eater or even supporter of the Dark Lord. He's not sure how Black got mixed up in that trouble that landed him in Azkaban, but if anyone knows anything about Black, it'd be Potter."

Rolling my eyes, I conceded his point. "Fine, since you already know that much, yes, I got the information from Harry. Black is supposedly coming back around here from wherever he's been hiding lately. The problem is trying to contact him. I suppose it'd be easier if I had Harry's help –"

"Definitely not!" Draco said hotly, and I actually took a small step back. "I'm sorry but I don't want Potter to have anything to do with this."

"Draco, you know he's our best bet." I tried.

"I said no, Izzy." Draco said, a note of finality in his voice.

We fell silent and began preparing the gathered ingredients as the eight cauldrons of water heated up. We'd agreed that I would brew the four most difficult ones while Draco brewed the other four, and we worked in tense silence for a while.

"What about your mother, Draco?" I said quietly, about half an hour later.

"What?" he said, focusing on adding the next ingredient into his cauldron of Blood-Replenishing Potion.

"Are you really going to risk leaving her with your father longer than she needs to because of your dislike of Harry?" I continued seriously as I reduced the heat on my third cauldron and turned to look at him.

"I don't trust him," Draco said stubbornly, "especially not with something as important as this."

"But I trust him Draco, I know him and I know he'd help if he knew –"

"I said no, Izzy!" Draco snapped.

"Can you stop being a stubborn prat for just a minute, Draco, dammit!" I growled, pacing around in frustration. I approached Draco until I was standing less than two inches away from him and poked him in his chest. "Can you imagine what your mother could be going through right this minute, Draco? Are you seriously going to allow this to continue when there's a possibility that you could end this sooner than later if you'd just swallow your pride and ask for help?"

"But I don't –"

"Draco, there are plenty of ways that we could go about doing this. We don't have to tell Harry the full story, but he's our best bet and he's going to need to know _something_ if he wants to help us. Draco please," I said pleadingly, my voice lowering, "I can't bear to see you suffer any longer or sit here while your mother is stuck in that hell with _him._ I swear that Harry is not the guy you think he is. He'll help us. I know he will."

Draco stared down at me, a range of emotions raging in his mind, too mixed up for me to be able to separate them even with my enhanced senses. He gently cupped my cheek and I couldn't stop myself from leaning into its warmth as he rubbed my skin with the pad of his thumb. "I hate seeing you like this, Izzy," Draco said softly, never breaking eye contact, "and though it goes against my better judgment, I'll allow Potter the chance to help. Thank you Izzy, for caring so much about me and my mother."

Before I could say anything, Draco slowly leaned down and his eyes drifted shut, his intentions clear as he tilted my face up toward his. In a brief moment of panic, I was frozen. Did I want Draco to kiss me? Of course I'd often thought about how handsome he was and we were already so close after having been reacquainted less than two weeks ago, but he was a good friend. _I bet his lips are really soft. I have the chance to find out now, _my girly thoughts chimed in, but I silenced them quickly. Draco's lips were less than an inch from mine and I was out of time to decide, just as he would've closed the remaining distance between us, the door to the lab opened and we sprang apart, both blushing furiously as Professor Snape entered and stared emotionlessly at us. There was an awkward moment of silence before Snape sighed and rolled his dark eyes.

"I'm not even going to ask. Be sure to clean up when you're finished." He said before turning around and closing the door behind him.

"We – we should finish up so I can take these to Madam Pomfrey." I said, desperately trying to force down my flush.

"Y-yes, you're right." Draco stuttered, hurrying to check on his potions.

For the next four hours, we worked in silence, neither of mentioning our close call even as we attempted to make easy conversation when the silence got tenser and more awkward. Finally, when the last potion was finished, bottled, and neatly labeled, I personally cast anti-breakage and preservation charms over each vial before conjuring a crate to hold them all. After we'd cleaned the entire potions lab and put away the remaining ingredients, I quickly reached up and kissed Draco on the cheek. "Thank you for helping me out Draco, I owe you big time for this, and I promise I'll work on – you know – as soon as possible." I said as I picked up the crate.

"Do you need help carrying that up to the Hospital Wing?" Draco said, oblivious to the fact that he was absently rubbing the spot where I'd kissed his cheek.

"No thanks Dray, I'll see you later and thanks again."

With that, I left the lab and called a thanks and goodbye to Professor Snape over my shoulder as I left his office, using my foot to close the door behind me. During my walk up to the Hospital Wing, my thoughts kept revolving around the fact that Draco had almost kissed me. I certainly hadn't expected that to happen, but then I felt guilty. _Had my friendliness this morning with him in front of Pansy led him on_? I stopped walking and briefly considered turning back and apologizing to Draco, if that was the case, but decided against it. Truly, I was torn. Yes, Draco was a rather handsome boy, he was a gentleman too, and he treated me as if I meant a lot to him…so what was stopping me? Wild jet black hair and green eyes swam into my mind's eye, and I damn near dropped the crate right then. Hoisting it up into a better position, I continued my journey. No, that was ridiculous. Harry was just as good a friend as Draco, but if Harry tried to kiss me…would I stop him?

Thankfully, I arrived at the Hospital Wing right then and froze as seven pairs of eyes darted to me and popped open. Seven dirty and clearly banged up boys, all of whom appeared to be upper-years, were standing around a single bed. They were all dressed in quidditch gear and judging from the color, they had to be Hufflepuffs. The feeling of worry coming from the group of boys gave me a bad feeling in my stomach.

"Who is that? I can't see around you lot." A familiar voice said, filled with pain.

My knees nearly buckled as the boys separated and I caught sight of a dirty, bruised, and bloodied boy with light brown hair and bright grey eyes. I slowly walked further into the Hospital Wing and set the crate down on an empty bed before approaching the boy lying in the bed. The seven boys back away to give me space and I felt tears well up in my eyes as I saw Cedric up close. The skin that was visible on him was covered in cuts, scrapes, and large purple bruises. He reeked of dirt, grass, and blood, and his face was tensed with pain. But even then, he smiled up at me.

"Wow Izzy, you look stunning." He said, his voice raspy.

"Cedric," I said, my voice almost cracking, "what happened to you?"

"Quidditch practice," he said calmly, hissing as a spasm of pain shot through him.

"Quidditch practice?" I repeated, my voice raising several octaves. "You look like you got on the wrong side of some wild animal!"

"He –"

The boy who'd begun to speak fell silent as my eyes snapped to him. "What?" I said quickly.

The boy flushed and scratched the back of his head. "He was – err – chasing the snitch and he went into a dive, it was bloody incredible, but he lost his grip and fell off of his broom from pretty high up."

"Tattletale," Cedric mumbled immaturely.

"Isn't a professor supposed to supervise all practices to insure that something like that _doesn't_ happen?" I growled, turning back to Cedric.

"Professor Sprout was busy!" he insisted.

"Cedric, you prat, what if something more serious had happened to you out there? How would your mum and dad feel?" I said admonishingly, my eyes welling up again. Dammit, since when did I get so emotional? "How do you think I would feel?"

Cedric's face reddened and I could sense his shame. "I-I'm sorry Izzy, I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't," I said hotly, before wiping my eyes and straightening up. "What injuries did Madam Pomfrey say you have?"

"He crushed his entire left arm," the same boy that had spoken before said, "Madam Pomfrey had to vanish all of his bones in that arm and she gave him Skele-Gro Potion to regrow them. He's also got a concussion and fractured ribs, and as you can see, a load of nasty cuts and bruises."

"Thank you …?" I trailed off questioningly.

"Gabriel Tate," the boy said, offering a hand. I shook it briefly before turning back to Cedric and checking his chart.

"Well, it looks like you're due for another dose of Blood-Replenishing Potion and I can heal those cuts and bruises for you, they can't be pleasant to have." I said as I used a spell to cleanse his skin. The seven other boys backed went and sat on other beds in order to give me more space, and I had Gabriel bring me the crate that I'd set on one of the beds. Picking out a vial of the proper potion, I sniffed it just to be sure that it had been properly labeled. Once I was sure that it was perfectly safe, I conjured a spoon and measured out the correct dosage onto it before feeding it to Cedric, who grimaced at the taste. As I set about healing his smaller injuries, I engaged him in conversation.

"How have you been Cedric? I haven't really talked to you since I got here." I said softly.

"I know, I'm sorry Izzy," Cedric said sadly. "It's been a really busy week already, seeing as this is our NEWT year and all. I'm fine either way, but how are you adjusting?"

"Well…it hasn't been easy," I said carefully, "but I've made some friends and I'm doing great in my lessons so far."

"Ah yes, I've heard that you've been hanging around that Malfoy kid. I'd be careful if I were you, Izzy." Cedric warned me seriously.

"Oh, not you too, Ricky." I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I've known Draco almost as long as I've known you, he's not as bad as everyone thinks he is."

"If you're sure Izzy," Cedric muttered, clearly unconvinced, "but if he steps one toe out of line toward you, I'll personally take care of him."

Gazing down at Cedric's handsome face, I smiled and kissed his forehead, noticing his slight blush. "Thank you, Oh Strong and Scary big brother Cedric," I teased, "I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you around to protect my good name."

"Oh shut it," Cedric rolled his eyes, his blush deepening as his friends snickered behind their hands.

"Thank you Miss Snow," Madam Pomfrey said as she entered the main ward and saw me finishing up with Cedric, "I'm afraid I had a floo-call from the Headmaster and Professor Sprout. Did you give him his needed Blood-Replenishing Potion?"

"Yes ma'am," I answered politely, "I checked his chart and gave him the right dosage. It was freshly brewed as well, and so it's at maximum potency."

"Is that why it tastes so horrid?" Cedric mumbled.

"Oh hush, you," I said, tapping his chest with my wand.

"Excellent work once again, Miss Snow, I knew I made the right choice in you." Madam Pomfrey said proudly, causing me to blush slightly.

"Thank you, and I enjoy helping wherever I can. The rest of the potions you asked for are in this crate," I explained, showing it to her. "As you can see, each vial is properly labeled and I already cast anti-breakage and preservation charms over each individual vial."

Madam Pomfrey's smile couldn't possibly get any larger than it was at that moment, and I was startled to see her eyes glistening. "It does an old woman's heart good to know that I have a reliable helping hand now," she said fondly. "I won't be around forever, perhaps you'd consider taking over when I retire, dear?"

"It certainly sounds like a worthy career choice Madam Pomfrey, but I haven't really given it much thought yet." I said honestly.

"Understandable dear, you are quite young." She nodded before picking up the crate. I knew how heavy it was and snapped my fingers.

"Gabriel, help Madam Pomfrey with that crate please, while I finish up with Cedric." I said, authority clear in my tone.

Said boy jumped to his feet and gently took the crate from the older woman, holding it as she took the vials out of it and neatly arranged it in her warded cupboard. As they continued this process, I healed the last of Cedric's smaller injuries and smoothed his hair away from his face. "You should be fine, Cedric," I said as I used a spell to check his vitals, "but promise me you'll take it easy and be more careful next time?"

"Of course Izzy, I'm truly sorry." He said quietly.

"Thank you, Mr. Tate." Madam Pomfrey said once she'd finished, before brushing her hands off on her apron and turning a stern glare on the eight boys. "Now, after I talked with the Headmaster and your Head of House, it was decided that you won't receive detention this time, but if this happens again, you all risk suspension. This is very serious boys, I hope you realize that. Anything could've happened to you all out there without supervision, and Mr. Diggory here could've sustained a much more serious injury than a crushed arm and some fractured ribs."

All eight boys, including Cedric, looked down in shame and I stroked his hair soothingly.

"Mr. Diggory, you'll have to stay overnight and tomorrow, but you should be able to return to class on Monday morning. The rest of you may go, he needs his rest." Madam Pomfrey instructed. The boys said their goodbyes to Cedric, promising to visit him and apologizing for getting him hurt, before they left, leaving the three of us in the ward together.

"Is there anything else you need help with right now, Madam Pomfrey?" I asked, absently cleaning up the entire ward using magic.

"No dear, thank you, but you've done more than I could've imagined today. Thirty points to Gryffindor." She rewarded with a smile. "I daresay it's almost time for dinner, you should go clean up and head down to the Great Hall. Mr. Diggory needs to eat and sleep now."

"Yes ma'am," I complied, kissing Cedric's forehead again and tucking him in before whispering goodbye and leaving the Hospital Wing.

As I headed up to East Tower, my stomach roared and I remembered that Draco and I had missed lunch because we were brewing those potions for Madam Pomfrey. I briefly wondered what Draco had been up to since I left him in Snape's lab, and pushed down a bit of guilt. Though a small part of me wanted to, I couldn't avoid Draco because of what happened today. The right thing to do would be to talk to him and straighten this out. Once in East Tower, I used a hot, moist wash cloth to wash my face and neck, then washed my hands and used a spell to clean my clothes that had begun smelling of herbs. I took my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall down my back again before I was prepared to head down to dinner. When I entered the Great Hall, Gabriel personally approached me and thanked me for helping out Cedric. I could tell that Gabriel cared a great deal about my pseudo-brother and assumed that they were best friends. When Gabriel and I separated, I headed for the Gryffindor Table and sat down in my usual seat.

"I have to admit it's great to see you lot," I smiled, "I haven't seen you all day. What have you all been up to?"

"Hermione's been making us study _all day_!" Ron moaned. Harry nodded fervently in agreement.

"Good on you, Mione. Can't have these two prats falling behind, now can we?" I grinned at the girl, which she returned.

"Exactly what I was telling them," she said, glaring at the two boys.

When food appeared on the table before us, I dug in, my hunger returning full force. I moaned happily as I bit into a chunk of roast beef that I'd practically drowned in gravy.

"So, did you finish those potions for Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione asked a minute later.

"Yes, it's all thanks to Draco though, he helped me brew them. If not for him, I'd probably still be brewing." I admitted honestly, feeling Ron and Harry's change in attitude.

"That was nice of him," Hermione said firmly, apparently sensing the change in the two boys as well.

"Yes, but when I was taking them to the Hospital Wing, I saw Cedric in there." I said quietly.

"I didn't see him come into the Hall, is he alright?" She asked concernedly.

_She truly is a good person, inside and out._ I thought briefly.

After explaining the situation to her, she shook her head. "That was pretty irresponsible of them, but I am glad that nothing worse happened to Cedric, or any of them. Was that Gabriel, the boy that approached you when you walked into the Hall?" she asked.

"Yes, I can tell that he and Cedric are rather close. It's nice to know that he has good friends here." I smiled fondly and continued eating. "Tomorrow Harry, you and I have some work to do, alright?"

"We do?" He asked obliviously.

I smiled mysteriously. "Yes, we do. But don't worry, you'll thank me later."

When dessert had been devoured and the table was left sparkling, all of us rose and headed for the doors, where I gave the trio apologetic looks. "I'll see you lot tomorrow at breakfast, alright?"

"You're running off again?" Harry asked, but I had already set off towards a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Draco," I said, reaching out and grabbing his arm.

When he turned around, his expression was guarded and I knew that he was still thinking about what had happened earlier. I attempted to smile at him, but sighed. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?" I whispered.

He raised an eyebrow but his posture relaxed some. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, come on." I said, taking his hand and tugging him towards the stairs.

He said a quick goodbye to two boys; one was tall with silky black hair, high cheeks, and flawless mocha colored skin. His hazel eyes were slanted, and I absently noted that he was rather pretty for a boy. The other boy was about Draco's height with creamy skin and brown hair of varying shades, his eyes were steel-colored and his figure was slightly more muscled than that of Draco's or the darker boy's. The two boys looked from Draco to me and back again, and I could see the smirks beginning on their faces and sense their amusement.

"I suppose we'll see you tomorrow, Draco," the creamy-skinned boy said, doing nothing to hide his mirth as he and his friend followed the other Slytherins in the direction of the dungeons.

"Who were those boys?" I asked as Draco and I set out for East Tower.

"The taller one is Blaise Zabini, he's a quiet sort, not very confrontational, and bloody vain about appearances," Draco rolled his eyes, but I could sense his fondness, "but he's a good mate, as is Theo Nott, the other boy. Theo's more of a joker, but he has an interesting sense of humor, enjoys the creepier and cynical things in life. I'm closer to Theo though, and spent most of my childhood with him after you left." Draco explained quietly.

"Do – do they know?" I asked softly.

"They've both seen evidence of it, bruises and welt-marks, but I've only told Theo. Blaise is highly intelligent though, and he's most likely strung it together in his mind anyway." He replied.

"Zabini…and Nott…I've heard of their families – wait, don't tell me that's _the_ Zabini kid?" I said, a large smile blooming on my lips.

"If you're referring to the story of his mother, than yes, that is Blaise's mum. His father died a mysterious but suspicious death, according to the rumors," Draco's lip twitched, "as did all six of his stepfathers. It's curious though, that all of them left Blaise and his mum even richer than they already were."

"Oh Merlin," I laughed, "I'd love to meet Mrs. Zabini someday. She has to have some kind of balls to pull something like that and never get caught."

Draco snorted. "I'm sure if you asked her, she'd say she has no idea what you're talking about."

I raised an eyebrow. "You asked her didn't you?"

Draco flushed lightly. "Yes, I did…and she slapped me and told me not to mind a grown woman's business."

I howled with laughter until tears leaked from my eyes, and didn't stop giggling until we were in my bedroom.

"Will you stop that? It wasn't that funny." Draco grumbled half-heartedly.

"I'm s-sorry Draco," I said, trying and failing to cover my continuing laughter.

"Oh really?" Draco said, suddenly approaching me predatorily. "I'll give you something to laugh about."

Without warning, Draco pushed me back onto my bed and pinned me down, holding both of my wrists over my head with one of his hands. His other hand hovered over my stomach and I narrowed my eyes at him. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, don't you –" My warning was drowned out by loud laughter as Draco began tickling me without mercy. I squirmed and wiggled in an attempt to get away, but Draco was stronger than I'd thought and he was holding me down with all of his weight. Unless I used my Lycan strength, he had me trapped. He seemed to find my predicament amusing and began laughing as well. We chuckled, guffawed, hooted, and giggled until we were both red in the face and out of breath. Finally, when my sides ached and I had tears of laughter streaming down my face, Draco finally stopped and plopped down on his back beside me until we caught our breath.

"Izzy?" Draco asked after a few minutes of companionable silence.

"Yeah, Draco?" I said softly.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to ambush you like that." He said, and I could sense his honesty.

"It's okay Dray, I was just caught off guard, you know?" I whispered, my heartbeat picking up in chest.

Draco shifted onto his side until he was looking at me and I did the same, not realizing until that moment exactly how close we were lying next to each other. He gently brushed strands of hair from my face, and stroked my cheek again. "So if I gave you a chance to prepare, could I try again?" he asked softly, his eyes full of emotion.

All day, I had been mentally wrestling myself with that very same question and wondering if it was possible – if I could possibly have more than platonic feelings for Draco. Before my mind could even come up with an answer, I found myself nodding and staring Draco directly in the eye. Pushing himself up onto his hands, he held himself up over me and closed the distance slowly, doing as he promised and giving me a change to reject him or not. But I didn't reject him. I didn't turn my head away or tell him to stop. When his eyes drifted shut, I allowed mine to flutter shut as well and it seemed time stood still in anticipation for what was about to happen. I only had a second to wait before incredibly soft lips pressed gently against mine, and my entire body flooded with an odd tingling sensation that seemed to travel from my lips down into lower regions. I felt a sudden burst of pure _want_ and reached up, wrapping my arms around Draco's neck, moving my lips in time with his. He responded to this and deepened the kiss before rolling onto his back so that I was lying on top of him. This excited me and I slipped my tongue in his mouth as he ran his fingertips up my sides, causing me to shiver pleasantly. I pulled back a minute later to catch my breath, both of our heartbeats thundering in our ears, and we simply stared at each other.

Without a word, Draco gently maneuvered me onto the mattress and bent down to kiss my forehead before rolling off of my bed onto his feet. "Goodnight Izzy," he said quietly as he left the room, closing the door behind him. As I listened closely, I heard the door to the sixth year dorm open and close and I blew out a deep breath and let my head fall back.

_What the hell just happened?_


	12. Progress

_**A/N: **__**There are some things that will happen in this story that probably won't make sense or come together until the very end perhaps even the sequel. Please keep in mind that everything does, in fact, happen for a reason…especially in fanfiction.**_

_**A/N2:**__** If you were to look it up on the .com page, you'd see that I'm using the CoS video game adaptation of the Hogwarts library, it seems more interesting.**_

_**Warning**_**: **_**Plenty of foul language, though understandable considering the circumstances.**_

_Previous Chapter:_

_Without a word, Draco gently maneuvered me onto the mattress and bent down to kiss my forehead before rolling off of my bed onto his feet. "Goodnight Izzy," he said quietly as he left the room, closing the door behind him. As I listened closely, I heard the door to the sixth year dorm open and close and I blew out a deep breath and let my head fall back._

_What the hell just happened?_

**Chapter Twelve: Progress**

"_**Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible."**_

Sunday morning I awoke gradually, unwilling to get out of bed as I thought back to the previous night. I could almost still feel Draco's lips on mine, but despite how my body had responded the previous night, there was something niggling at the back of my mind. _It hadn't been everything I'd expected it to be._ At that thought, I sighed deeply. I had liked the feeling of having someone's body pressed against mine and enjoyed the rush of pleasure that accompanied a good kiss, but there was something missing. Perhaps I was lonelier than I realized and I longed for romantic attention, but if that was the case, why couldn't I feel that with Draco? What was missing?

_Emotion_.

The word resonated in my mind repeatedly and seemed to shatter my thoughts. Emotion. The kiss had garnered a physical reaction from me, but there was no romantic feeling behind it. Now that I had solved the mystery of my feelings over Draco, I expected to feel some sort of relief but I didn't. I was worried about how Draco would feel when we came face to face, sooner than later seeing as he was in the next room over. Groaning softly, I decided to deal with it as it happened and rolled out bed after stretching pleasantly. After taking care of my morning business, I took my time showering and pampering my skin, as well as picking out an outfit for the day. I wiggled into white skinny jeans, the black lace-up boots I had worn the previous day, and a black sheer shirt that I tied in the front, revealing just a hint of my toned stomach, opting for the black diamond earrings once more. I braided my hair into one long black braid and tied the end with an ivory ribbon, before strapping my wand to my right thigh. As I re-entered my bedroom, I froze upon seeing Draco lying on his back with his legs hanging off the bed, his hands folded behind his head and his eyes closed. He was dressed in formal clothing as always, and I rolled my eyes, ignoring the instant burst of wriggling in my stomach.

"Draco, don't you own any casual clothes?" I muttered before leaning over him and flicking his nose.

"Ouch!" he yelped, covering his nose with his hand as his eyes snapped open. "And you call _that_ casual?" he said, leering playfully at me, though I sensed his tense emotions as well.

"It's casual for me," I shot back, "but you'll have to change, Mr. Malfoy."

"And if I refuse?" he said challengingly.

"I'll transfigure your clothes into a pink dress and matching sparkly heels," I threatened, straight-faced.

We glared at each other, neither of us blinking or moving a muscle, and remained like this for at least a full minute before Draco cursed and blinked. "Ha," I crowed, jumping up in triumph, "I win, as always."

"Oh shut it," Draco muttered, eyeing me warily as I raked my eyes over his body, deciding the best way to dress my new life-sized Ken doll.

_I suppose that means we're okay for now, but I hope this doesn't blow up in my face in the future…_

"I've got it!" I said happily, clapping my hands and grabbing my wand. Focusing on transfiguring his clothes exactly as I pictured them in my mind, I changed his slacks into slightly loose black skinny jeans, his black dress shoes into white trainers, and his white button-up shirt into a tight white v-neck t-shirt. Smiling largely, I reached forward and messed up his neat hair. "All done, go take a look at my brilliance." I said, shooing him towards my closet. When he entered, he seemed taken aback by the sheer amount of clothes around us before I pushed him in front of the mirror.

After a minute of silence, he finally said, "I look like a bloody muggle."

"A very attractive muggle, Draco. Come on, you have to admit that you look pretty good." I grinned, almost lecherously at him in the mirror.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Are you hitting on me, Miss Snow?"

"Only in your dreams, pretty boy." I shot back, before giggling and watching Draco try to suppress a smile. "Come on, let's go down to breakfast and stun all those poor girls into silence."

"Wait, what! You mean I have to actually go out in public like this?" Draco hissed, dragging his heels as I pulled him by the hand towards the exit.

"Draco, if I have to use an _Incarcerous_ spell and drag you down there myself…" I trailed off threateningly.

One silent staring match later and I was happily parading a disgruntled Draco through the corridors of Hogwarts, attracting the attention of all. One poor girl even missed a step as she gawked at us, and would've gotten hurt if not for her friend breaking her fall. Thoroughly amused, we stopped outside of the semi-full Great Hall and I gestured to Draco to enter first, my lips trembling with barely suppressed mirth the entire time.

"Are you sure I have –"

"Quit stalling Draco and walk inside, I'm starving over here!" I groaned.

With a deep sigh, Draco squared his shoulders and adopted a look of casual indifference before striding confidently into the Great Hall. All movement stopped and Draco was subjected to the same treatment I had received the previous morning, as I walked in behind him, the whispers erupted and I patted Draco's arm sympathetically before prancing to the Gryffindor Table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't even noticed my arrival as they were all still staring at Draco, who was walking with as much dignity as he could towards the Slytherin Table. While Harry's expression was one of pure shock, Ron appeared to be bouncing back and forth between confusion and hate, while Hermione…

I almost laughed out loud right then, for Hermione was eyeing Draco with what could only be called pure appraisal. She forced down the small smile that had begun on her lips and returned to fixing her breakfast, pausing only to cuff Ron on the back of the head. "Stop glaring at him Ronald, it's rude." She said, and I noticed the pink tinge in her cheeks.

_My, my, my Miss Granger, is that a blush I see coming on?_

Still grinning, I tapped Harry on the shoulder and he jerked out of his stunned stare at Draco and turned to me, his eyes automatically traveling down and back up again. As he met my eyes, he gave me that lopsided grin that set my heart stuttering in my chest. "Izzy, you look as stunning as always." He said softly.

"Thanks Harry, you're always so sweet." I said, returning his smile.

"Not always," Hermione muttered playfully as she pointedly ignored Ron's glare.

I raised an eyebrow at Ron's behavior, but Hermione discreetly shook her head, telling me not to mention it. A little annoyed at the way Ron had been treating her all week, I respected Hermione's wishes and kept my mouth shut about it. We began eating breakfast in silence, before Hermione took the opportunity to break it. "So, I'm going to assume that you're the reason Malfoy's dressed like…like a normal human being?" she asked, and I was almost shocked to see a hint of a smirk on the kind girl's face.

"You would be correct in that assumption, my dear Hermione." I replied jokingly. "He looks so much better, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does." Hermione said, as I glanced up at her, I saw that faint tinge in her cheeks again and my lips twitched. _This is just too good, but I bet Ron would bust a vein in his forehead if he found out._

When breakfast was over, I nudged Harry and stood up. "Come on Harry, we've got places to go and people to see." I said, tugging his hand. "You two don't mind if I steal him away for a while, do you?"

"I –"

"Of course we don't, Izzy," Hermione said, pointedly cutting off whatever Ron had been about to say. "We'll be in the library if you need us."

"We'll meet you two down here for lunch," I promised, before leading Harry towards the Great Hall doors. I felt the stares of all during this walk, and glanced towards the Slytherin Table. When I made eye contact with Draco, I winked and blew him teasing kiss, laughing as he rolled his eyes.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked as we walked along the corridors.

"Oh nothing Harry, but I hope you're ready to drop Divination… I mean, unless you'll miss Trelawney?" I teased as I led him towards our destination.

Harry snorted. "I will certainly _not_ miss that fraud, but where are you taking me, Izzy? Dumbledore's office is the other way." He pointed out.

"We're not going to see Dumbledore," I said, trying to keep the ice out of my voice. To say that I was still suspicious and angry at the old man about our meeting Monday night was an understatement. "We're here to see McGonagall."

Before Harry could speak, I raised my hand and knocked three times on the door leading to Professor McGonagall's office. A stern "Come in" was heard through the wooden door and I led the way inside. Looking around as we walked in, I immediately noted that McGonagall's office was exactly like her – clean and practical. As we walked directly up to her desk, where she seemed to be grading papers, I watched her take in my casual outfit, nothing the barest brightening in her eyes.

"I apologize for interrupting your work Professor, but I would like to ask you something regarding Harry's schedule." I said, immediately getting to the point.

_No need to waste her time._

She glanced at Harry, who shifted uncomfortable before meeting her gaze, and set down her quill. "What can I help you with Miss Snow, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, I'm sure you're aware of my arrangement with Professor Dumbledore in regards to my elective choice of Self-Study," I started, pausing until she nodded and gestured for me to continued, "well, I was wondering if it was possible to allow Harry to drop Divination and instead join me in Self-Study?"

McGonagall stared unblinkingly at me and I unflinchingly met her stern stare though on the inside, I was squirming like a child that had been caught doing something bad. "And why haven't you taken this matter to the Headmaster, seeing as he is the one you originally came to this agreement with?" she asked finally.

"Professor Dumbledore is a very busy man Professor, and as Deputy Headmistress as well the Head of our House, I figured you would be the best person to speak to about it." I began, attempting a vague form of flattery. "I know that students don't usually get to change their electives, and neither Harry nor I expect special treatment, but you must know that Divination is – forgive me – absolute rubbish –" I was almost amazed to see her thin lips twitch at that, "and Harry could use all that I can teach him if he were to join me. I'm positive that you've heard of his adventures during his time here at Hogwarts and the rumors of…well you know," I said cautiously, noting the slight paling of her skin, "well I can help Harry, at least learn how to better defend himself against all sorts of dangers."

Harry shifted awkwardly beside me, having remained silent during this exchange, and we waited as McGonagall seemed to ponder my justifications for my request. After several agonizingly long seconds, McGonagall finally sighed.

"Very well Potter, Miss Snow, I will allow this change in your electives, and will notify both the Headmaster and Professor Trelawney. However, don't make me regret this. You had better work hard Potter, and I expect to see an actual change." She said sternly.

"Yes ma'am, and thank you Professor," Harry and I said in unison before turning around and leaving. Once we were in the corridor and I had closed the door behind us, Harry surprised me by wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up, while spinning in a circle. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist and I rested my hands on his shoulders. When he stopped spinning, he was grinning happily up at me and slowly, very slowly, set me down on my feet. As he did this, I was only too aware of our bodies rubbing together as well as that faint charge of energy that now accompanied Harry wherever he went.

"Thank you Izzy! I couldn't bare being stuck with that loon for another few years." He gushed happily. With his high emotions, I felt the electrical current on his skin spring to life and I yelped, jerking my body away from his.

"Damn, I'm sorry Izzy, I don't know –"

"It's fine Harry," I said, catching my breath even as my eyes watered, "it's a result of your growth spurt. Just try not to get too excited when you're touching me okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, his mood plummeting.

Cautiously, I poked his arm and tensed, but as I felt no shock, I grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the main staircase. "Come on Harry, this conversation is long overdue and we have some other things to discuss now that I'll be training you during Self-Study." I explained as we climbed the steps quickly, before they could move.

"Conversation about what?" Harry asked, confused.

"You."

When we arrived in East Tower, I gestured for Harry to take a seat on one of the armchairs while I pulled one up directly in front of him and sat in it, tucking my feet under me. "Well Harry, before I can know how to properly train you, I'd have to know more about you, your strengths and weaknesses, your background – that sort of thing." I began slowly. As soon as I said _background_, I sensed Harry's pulse quicken the slightly.

"What does my background have to do with training?" Harry asked, almost successfully hiding the nervousness in his voice.

"Things like accidental magic, old injuries, special skills will all help me determine the best training program for you." I said calmly, even as I sensed the charged energy around Harry begin to hum.

"I-I suppose…what do you want to know?" Harry said quietly, fingering the hem of his shirt.

"Well first, how about you tell me about your family?" I started, leaning back as I heard the first crackle of power coming from Harry.

"My…_family_," he repeated, the scents loathing and anger reaching me, "if you can call them that, consists of my mother's sister, Petunia Dursley, her husband, Vernon Dursley, and their son," he sneered, "Dudley Dursley. Dudley's about a month older than me."

"So you two must be close then, being so near in age?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as Harry snorted.

"The day Dudley and I become close is the day Voldemort will prance into Hogwarts, bend over, and kiss Dumbledore's saggy –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I get it! I get it!" I yelled, covering my ears even as my stomach heaved at the image. "Tell me about your relationship with the Dursleys." I said quickly, if only to get off the subject of the Dark Lord and our Headmaster engaging in that sort of…_activity_.

"Well, I'm not sure how, but I ended up on their doorstep sometime after my parents were k-killed," Harry said softly, "and from that day on, they let me know just how much of a burden I was – how much they didn't want me – how much they wished they could send me to the nearest orphanage. My bedroom was –" he stopped and took several calming breaths, understandable as the crackling around him began growing louder and harder to ignore, "was the cupboard under the stairs."

I heard a loud ripping sound.

Following Harry's wide eyes, I looked down at the arms of the chairs and saw that my black claws had sprung out and ripped through the chair's fabric. "Oh don't pay those any mind," I said, attempting to sound nonchalant, "please, finish your story."

The surprise of seeing my claws must've shocked Harry out of his own anger, because the charged air around him began to dissipate. "From the time that I could stand in a chair and reach the stove, I was practically their slave. I cooked all of the meals, even though I was fed only their scraps; I cleaned that entire house until my arms felt as though they would fall off; and I was their punching bag, for all three of them. My cousin Dudley was the neighborhood bully, and often took his aggression and enjoyment out on me by beating me up. I was much smaller than him, seeing as he's the size of a baby whale, and even if I tried to fight back, my Uncle Vernon would take over. And it wasn't too uncommon for Aunt Petunia to take swing at me with a frying pan if I didn't do everything exactly how she wanted it done."

I was torn being sorrow and pure bloodlust, and in the back of my mind, I was vaguely aware of my chest rumbling with the beginnings of a growl. Taken aback, Harry looked away and continued his story. "My uncle seemed to take pleasure in my fear and pain, and as I got older – it seemed to excite him more and more."

_Oh Merlin, please don't say it._

"It only happened a few times, but –" Harry's voice broke and I saw his green eyes glisten, I could sense his shame, his anger and hurt, and his disgust, "after he b-beat me sometimes, he'd t-touch me and grab me, or f-force me to s-s-su –" His body began to shake violently and I darted forward, wrapping my arms around him. Immediately, I felt a harsh jolt of pure electricity shoot through my body and although I want to cry out in pain and let go, I gritted my teeth and held him harder. I felt my hair stand on end and my own body began to shake with tremors, but I didn't let go of Harry.

"Shh, you don't have to say it, Harry," I murmured softly, stroking his soft jet black hair.

_Harry and Draco are more alike than anyone can ever imagine…how tragic…_ I thought sadly.

"Tell me some good things Harry," I whispered.

"I accidentally turned my teacher's wig blue when she was berating me in front of the class," he said softly, his voice muffled as I had him pressed into my neck, since I was now perched in his lap. "And – and I shrunk one of Dudley's horrid old sweaters that Aunt Petunia tried to force me to wear. One time, when Dudley and his gang were chasing me, I appeared on the roof of the school."

"You Apparated?" I gasped, impressed. "That must've taken an amazing amount of power to do so at such an early age."

"I suppose so," Harry said slowly, he began calming down and the pain I felt running through my body began to lessen, "but every time Aunt Petunia shaved all of my hair off, it grows back overnight."

"Impressive," I commented, "anything else?"

"On Dudley's eleventh birthday, we went to the zoo. I…I talked to a boa there in the Reptile House, and accidentally vanished the glass and set him free," Harry said, and I could feel him smiling slightly at the memory.

"You're a – a Parselmouth?" I asked, stunned.

"Yes, I found out for sure in second year, that business with the basilisk and all." He replied, almost defensively.

"It must be amazing to be able to talk to any sort of animal, especially snakes. They're supposed to be incredibly smart creatures." I said honestly. "Well, now that I know more about you, this is what I have in mind. There are such things called nutrient potions that – along with proper meals and exercise – can counteract your malnourishment and can bring your body up to where it should be for a boy of your age and power level. You'd have to take a vial of the potion with every meal, as well as one before you go to sleep as it helps speed up your metabolism and digest food faster. They'll increase your appetite, but with the training we'll be doing, you're in no danger of getting fat."

"You'd really do all of that for me?" Harry said, clearly touched.

"Of course Harry, I told you I would help you and I will. I…" I paused and continued stroking his hair, "I care about you Harry, a great deal too, and I'll do anything I can for you."

"Thank you," he said thickly.

"Don't thank me yet," I said, leaning back and attempting to smile at him, "once training starts, you'll likely hate me. Now, I'll be training you physically, mentally, and of course, magically –"

"Magically, I can understand, and even physically, but – mentally?" Harry asked.

"We'll worry about that when we get there, Harry. The most important thing for you to focus on now is getting into tiptop shape. When you've completed the first part of physical training, your body will be able to better sustain your immense magic and will also make it easier to train you mentally." I explained, shifting back into my own seat. "Now, this physical training will be incredibly intense and –"

I paused and my ears perked up as I heard footsteps coming up the staircase behind Isavéla's portrait, and I bolted up and grabbed my wand. No one was supposed to be able to get past the enchantments at the entrance of the short corridor. Creeping forward, I gestured for Harry to remain quiet as I approached the exit door. Wand pointed straight forward, I magically opened the door, a curse on my lips –

Only to see Draco standing there rather awkwardly.

"Err – the portrait let me in." he said, shoving his hands in his pocket.

"Who is it, Izzy?" Harry called.

Instantly, Draco's expression darkened and his nostrils flared. "Oh, I suppose I'm interrupting then? Fine, I'll leave."

Grabbing his wrist, I pulled him towards me. "Don't be ridiculous Draco, you're always welcome here. And if Isavéla let you in without me accompanying you, then she must trust you." I reassured him, practically dragging him back into the common room where Harry stood up and gripped his wand.

"What the hell is _he _doing here?" Harry said angrily.

"Oh please Potter, as if you have more right than me to be here," Draco drawled meanly. "You hardly deserve to be at Hogwarts, period. A pathetic half-blood excuse for a wiz –"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"_Affligo!"_

"_Protego!"_ I yelled, a red shield snapping into place and taking the impact of the two spells Harry and Draco had shot at each other. "That is enough!" I growled, yanking Draco forward and pushing him into the chair I had recently vacated and forcing Harry back down into his own seat. I loomed angrily over both boys and my glare was enough to subdue them from attacking each other again.

"I allow you both to enter a secret place of my ancestors and you _dare_ try to attack each other in here?" I snapped.

"He star –"

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you know that you were raised better than that! If your mum was here to witness such a disgusting display of – of muggle behavior," Draco flinched, "why, she'd faint from disappointment. You should've never insulted Harry." I reprimanded.

"Exactly Mal –"

"And you," I said, rounding on him, "Harry James Potter, you should know better than to let someone bait you like that! And especially to resort to a magical attack when he didn't do anything more than say a few childish words. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"But –" Both boys tried.

"Silence!" I growled, almost reveling in the immediate action. "The three of us have some rather important things to discuss, and we are going to do it in a civilized, mature manner, understood?"

Harry and Draco glared daggers at each other, and I could feel Harry's energy beginning to crackle. Patience thin, I grabbed both of their ears and pinched hard. "Understood?" I repeated, my voice soft and deadly.

"Yes Izzy!" Both boys yelped.

My smile was chilling. "Good, good." I said, perching on the edge of the glass coffee table that resided in the center of the circle of chairs and couches. "To make a long story short Harry…Draco needs your help." I said bluntly, ignoring the glare Draco shot my way.

"What?" Harry said, his eyes popping. "What could this pampered prat possibly need my help with? As if I would help him anyway –"

"I told you Potter's head was too far up his own arse to listen," Draco spat, standing up.

"Draco, sit down," I said. When he neither sat down nor headed for the door, I softened my tone. "Please Dray, sit down."

Reluctantly, Draco sat back down and pointedly avoided looking at Harry, who was clearly flabbergasted by Draco's outburst.

"Harry, I thought we were going to be mature about this?" I asked rhetorically. "You should know better than to judge based on appearances, being who you are."

Slightly ashamed, Harry crossed his and his chin raised a bit. "What's Malfoy ever done for me besides doing his damnedest to ruin every year at Hogwarts for me? Why should I help him out?"

"Because I thought Gryffindors – and especially Potters – were better than that." I said emotionlessly.

Harry and I stared silently at each other for a long minute, before he glanced at Draco, who was staring up at the high-domed ceiling. He seemed to be struggling with himself, but ultimately, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll hear him out." He said, sitting back in his armchair.

"Draco?" I prompted.

"I told you that I don't trust him, I'm not telling him." Draco said stubbornly.

I could see Harry firing up again, and headed it off. "Fine, Harry – I'm going to put this in a way that you'll better understand." I said seriously, staring Harry directly in the eye. "Draco's had the magical equivalent of your childhood with the Dursleys, and he needs your help to free himself and his mother from his father's control."

Totally floored, Harry's jaw hit his chest and he openly gaped at Draco, his eyes shocked but also slightly disbelieving. Draco, however, shot me an odd look. "What do you mean I had the _equivalent_ of Potter's childhood? There's no way –"

"Malfoy, if what Izzy says is true," Harry said, clearly with immense effort, "then I completely understand what you went through."

"Don't!" Draco suddenly growled angrily, sitting up straight, his stormy-grey eyes blazing. "You could never come _close_ to understanding what I went through because of that bastard!"

"And you could never have come close to guessing that my bedroom for the first ten years of my life after my parent's death was the cupboard under the stairs." Harry said coldly.

"I – wait what?" Draco gasped, his rant dying out as quickly as it had appeared.

"That's right Malfoy, I certainly did not enjoy the pampered lifestyle that people like you and Snape think I did. My childhood consisted of daily beatings, unimaginable punishments, constant belittling, starvation even, and –" Harry's voice broke off, even as his eyes iced over.

Now it was Draco's turn to stare wide-eyed at Harry, wrestling with himself to accept what he'd just heard or dismiss it because of his previous notions.

"Im-impossible…" Draco breathed disbelievingly.

"Impossible? I wish." Harry snorted, but then he leveled an understanding look at Draco. "But it's not that far of a stretch to believe that Lucius Malfoy was just as much an abusive bastard as my Uncle Vernon."

"You have no idea the extent of his cruelty." Draco muttered angrily, looking down at his hands clenched in his lap.

"Malfoy, while my Uncle Vernon couldn't use magic and torture me that way, he was plenty creative. And – and he said that an abnormal freak like me should be lucky that I had garnered his _special attention_." Harry spat.

Draco's head snapped up and he stared searchingly at Harry, and when the two boy's eyes met, I could just tell that a sort of understanding had been reached. "If you're Uncle did the same things to you, t-that my father did to me Potter," he took a deep shuddering breath, "then I understand and…"

_Could this really be happening? _I wondered, my heart lifting and sinking with happiness and sorrow at the same time. It was odd – feeling the contradicting emotions so strongly.

"_WILL ALL STUDENTS PLEASE IMMEDIATELY REPORT TO THEIR COMMON ROOMS. THIS IS A LOCKDOWN. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT, WILL ALL STUDENTS PLEASE IMMEDIATELY REPORT TO THEIR COMMON ROOMS. THIS IS A LOCKDOWN…"_

_Lockdown…_

_Lockdown…_

Dumbledore's voice reverberate against the walls and faded away, leaving Draco, Harry, and I staring wide-eyed at each other. The graveness of the headmaster's tone had not been lost on any of us, and my eyes dragged to the two boys, both of whom were pale and confused.

"A lockdown?" Draco whispered. "For what?"

Standing up slowly, I removed my wand from its holster and my eyes darted around the common, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end and the tension growing as the silent seconds ticked by. "A lockdown...does that happen often here?" I asked quickly.

Harry shook his head numbly. "Only once – when Sirius broke into the castle last year."

Draco's eyes snapped to Harry. "You're talking about Black, right?"

Almost defensively, Harry jerked his head in a brief nod.

"Well, we should be safe here, seeing as no one else knows about this place," I said, sweeping over the room once more before looking at Harry, "but do you think Ron and Hermione got up to Gryffindor Tower safely?"

That seemed to snap Harry out of whatever daze he'd been experiencing, and within a second, Draco and I were staring at his retreating back as he headed towards the exit, wand in hand.

"Where are you going, Harry?" I said, running forward and grabbing his arm. I heard Draco stand up behind us. "You heard Dumbledore. Everyone has to stay in their common rooms. You don't know what's out there."

"And neither do Ron and Hermione, I have to find them… to make sure they're okay." He said determinedly.

"Harry, I'm sure they'll be fine. The Professors are undoubtedly patrolling the corridors to escort students to their common rooms and besides, those two can take care of themselves." I attempted persuasively.

"She's right Potter, don't be an idiot." Draco said, walking up behind me. "You don't have to be the bloody hero all the time."

Harry stared at Draco, but apparently decided not to entertain Draco's words with an answer. "Izzy, I'm going to look for my friends. You can come with or you can stay here…with him," Harry said firmly, yanking his arm out of my grip, "but you're not going to stop me."

I listened as Harry ran down the marble steps that ended behind Isavéla's portrait and my heart pounding in my ears, and indecisiveness pulling me in two different directions. My sense of self-preservation told me to stay, my argument to Harry still withstanding: _we didn't know what was out there_. I hadn't made it on my own this long to be killed by whatever had caused this lockdown. Besides, Prim and Aunt Ava would kill me if they found out… I took an unsure step towards the open door, but was stopped by Draco grabbing my wrist.

"You aren't seriously going to chase after him, are you?" he asked incredulously. "You could get killed out there!"

"And so could he, Draco. I'm not going to let him go out there alone. You can stay here," I said, reaching up and caressing his cheek, "but I can't."

As I said this, I slipped my wrist out of Draco's hand and ran out after Harry, leaving Draco standing alone in the common room.

I caught up with him at the bottom of the staircase just before he reached out to push open Isavéla's portrait. I grabbed the back of his shirt and roughly pushed his back against the stone wall on our left. Taken aback, Harry froze and stared at me, the golden and scarlet glow of my eyes washing over his face and lighting up the dark passage. I stared at him with the utmost serious and my tone was unforgiving and unyielding as I spoke next.

"I'm coming with you – no, shut up and listen." I said when he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm coming with you, but we're doing this my way. We are _not –_ not going to run blindly around the castle, screaming their names and hoping we come across them. We don't have time to make a plan, but you will follow my lead and do as I tell you, understood?"

Harry grinned gratefully, and nodded. "Understood," he said, anticipation and determination filling up the small passage.

"Bloody Gryffindors…death of me…by Merlin…" Draco grumbled as he ran down the marble steps, wand in hand. He paused as Harry and I stared, astounded, at him. "What? You didn't think I'd let you leave with Potter as your only protection, did you?"

Harry and I exchanged large grins, and I reached and grabbed Draco's hand, squeezing it briefly. "Alright, keep your eyes and ears open, keep up with me, and for Merlin's sake, please don't trip and fall." I said, rolling my eyes, but only Harry caught the reference to muggle horror films. "Ready?" When the two of them nodded, I grinned, feeling my adrenaline hum to life.

"Then let's do this."

Slowly pushing open Isavéla's portrait, I thanked whatever magic prevented it from creaking loudly in the heavy silence outside of East Tower. With Draco and Harry breathing down my neck, I led the way down the short corridor that my residence was hidden in, keeping to the walls. Stopping at the entrance, where the invisible barrier separated East Tower from the rest of the castle, I took a deep breath and stuck my head, peering up and down the corridors to my left and right. Upon seeing nothing but empty hallways, I looked back at Harry and Draco. "We're going to check in Gryffindor Tower first," I said, whispering so low that the two had to lean forward to hear me. "There's no point in wandering about the whole castle if those two are already safely in the Tower."

After receiving two mute nods, we passed through the barrier and crept into the sunlit corridor, heading in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower. On our left, the stone walls had large windows at regular intervals and as we journeyed, I peered out of these, trying to discern if there was any activity going on outside, but I saw nothing but empty grounds and the still lake. The wall on our right however, was covered with moving portraits, all of which watched our silent progress with disapproving eyes.

"You three should be headed to your common rooms. You heard the Headmaster –" a golden-haired man reprimanded quietly.

"Bugger off," Draco muttered, ignoring the affronted glare the man shot him from within his portrait. Grabbing Draco's wrist, I yanked him forward and shot him an annoyed look. We quickened our pace towards the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower and arrived within minutes, staring up at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "This is where the Gryffindor common room is?" Draco murmured to himself.

"Password?" the Fat Lady asked.

Rolling my eyes at Draco, I scratched my head. "Err – Harry, what's the password?" I asked.

"You mean you don't know?" he asked incredulously.

"Come on, you know I don't stay in this tower. I never bothered to learn it!" I hissed quietly, glancing behind us every few seconds. "Just tell her the damn password."

"Belladonna," Harry said finally, breathing a sigh of relief as the Fat Lady swung open. Climbing through the portrait hole behind Harry, Draco following after me, I was almost taken aback to see the entire House crowded in the common room. We froze just inside the entrance and the Fat Lady's portrait swung shut ominously behind us. It was disturbing to see so many pairs of eyes travel from Harry, to me, and finally, landing on Draco, who glared back at all of them.

"What the hell is that snake doing in here?" someone yelled from the back of the crowd. Ignoring the speaker, I scanned the room, as did Harry, and we both frowned.

"I don't see them, do you?" Harry muttered, leaning towards me.

"No…" I sighed. "Listen up you lot, did anyone see Ron and Hermione come into the Tower since the lockdown was announced."

A petite girl with pale, freckled skin and bright red hair pushed her way to the front of the room, and I saw immediately that it was Ginny, Ron's little sister. Her eyes glistened as approached us, shaking her head. "No one's seen them since breakfast, Izzy," she said worriedly.

Harry and I exchanged long glances and I nodded, tilting my head towards the portrait hole. "Thanks Ginny," Harry said, briefly squeezing her shoulder, before the three of us turned around.

"And where do you three think you're going?" a male voice called. Turning around, I recognized the seventh year as Kenneth Towler.

"We're going to find Ron and Hermione, of course." Harry stated plainly, backed up with my firm nod. Draco simply leaned back on the wall beside the portrait hole.

"No you're not," Kenneth said, staring us down sternly, "you're going to stay right here until the lockdown is over. You heard Dumbledore's orders."

_I've just about had it with people mentioning Dumbledore and his bloody orders._ I mentally growled.

"Oh, and I suppose you'll stop us if we try to leave anyway?" I asked challengingly, visibly fingering my wand.

"You'd attack a fellow Gryffindor?" Kenneth gasped, appalled.

"Both of us would," Harry said firmly, "if any of you try to stop us from going to find my two best friends…and I'm sure Malfoy here wouldn't mind helping us out, either."

The dark grin Draco flashed sent a chill down many spines in the common room, despite the roaring fire in the huge fireplace. Kenneth looked at three of us, wands at the ready and our expressions unwavering, before sighing and rolling his eyes. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you lot."

"We've already wasted enough time in here, let's go." Draco said, placing one hand on the back of the portrait.

"Wait!"

"Bloody hell, does every Gryffindor in here have to make a goddamn speech?" Draco groaned.

"Harry, you find my brother and bring him back in one piece, understand?" Ginny said, glaring at Harry and clenching her fists. He reached out and briefly squeezed her shoulder.

"Sure thing, Ginny." Harry said, before turning around and following Draco out of the portrait hole, and after a brief look around the common room, I followed as well.

Once we were back out into the corridor, I led the way towards the main staircase, peering round corners and stretching my hearing out. "We're going to the library, that's where they said they'd be." I whispered over my shoulder. As we crept slowly down the marble staircase, the dull sound of trainers and my boots against the floor and our racing hearts thundering in my ears, I felt uneasy. I kept peering behind us, unable to shake whatever was causing the hair on my neck to stand on end. If I had to put a name to it – I'd compare it to being watched. _But that's ridiculous right? There are hundreds of portraits all around us, of course we're being watched._ But somehow my own thoughts couldn't reassure me.

When we stepped onto the fourth floor, I stopped breathing as I heard two sets of footsteps running in our direction. "Hide!" I hissed, desperately looking around. I slipped behind a broad suit of armor standing in the corner nearest me, while Harry and Draco squeezed themselves into the same dark alcove. Rolling my eyes, I focused on the darkness around them until the shadows thickened enough that their pale skin and Draco's white-blonde hair weren't visible. We only had a second to spare before two older students – prefects, I realized as I saw their shiny badges – ran straight down the center of the corridor, looking terrified and disheveled.

"How the – bloody hell – did that _thing_ – get so big? And did you – see all the – blood downstairs by the library?" the female Ravenclaw prefect wailed, slowing to a stop and gasping for breath. I winced at how loudly Harry and Draco's hearts were beating, and I was positive that if I could hear their slightly heavy breathing, then the prefects could too.

"I don't know, but it's got to be at least fourteen feet long and that blood – well try not to think about it for now. But we have to keep patrolling until Dumbledore says the lockdown's over, come on," her male counterpart said determinedly, pulling her along. When they disappeared around the corner behind us, we shared horrified looks. Slipping out from behind the suit of armor, I brushed my white jeans off and looked both ways down the corridor.

"You don't think –"

"Of course not," I said quickly, anticipating Harry's pessimistic question. "Come on, we're wasting time."

Creeping further down the corridor in the direction that the prefects had come from, I could hear footsteps off in the distance, perhaps a few corridors over. Just as we turned the corner, the strong scent of herbs and potions wafted towards me and I spun around, shoving the boys back. "Snape's coming!" I hissed, looking around. Snape was much more perceptive than two prefects, and we needed better hiding spots. His footsteps became closer and now I could hear his breathing – he'd turn the corner any second now. My eyes fell on a plain, unmarked door and I rushed forward, thanking Merlin as the knob turned easily in my hand. Ducking inside what seemed to be a dusty, unused classroom, I yanked Draco inside with me, Harry following after. We slowly crept towards the back of the class, careful not to even breathe too loudly as Snape's footsteps were upon us.

_My blood froze._

"Dammit Harry," I whispered angrily, "you left the door cracked!"

Slowly, the two boys followed my pointing finger and paled. Draco glared at the dark-haired boy and murmured, "Way to go, Potter. Aren't you supposed to be some sort of expert on this sort of thing?"

I shushed Draco and gave Harry a warning look not to respond to his taunts. Honestly, could I have been stuck with a more unlikely pair of boys to sneak around the castle with? We held our breath, straining to listen as Snape started to pass the classroom.

_CRASH!_

My head snapped left and my nostrils flared as I saw what had caused the loud racket – Draco had knocked over an old trashbin.

"Way to go, Malfoy," Harry whispered, unable to pass up the opportunity. I firmly slapped a hand over both of their mouths as all sound in the corridor outside our classroom stopped – Snape had stopped walking. I heard him turn on his heels and the swish of his robes as he crept toward the cracked door.

_Dammit, if I get detention or worse because of these two idiots…_

None of us moved a muscle, or even blinked, as Snape's shadow became visible at the crack and his fingers wrapped around the door. Draco sighed in defeat, the sound muffled by my hand, as Snape began pushing the door open.

_This is it. _I mentally groaned.

Just then, the sound of loud, terrified screams and deafening bangs – the sounds of spells being cast – shattered the tense silence. "Severus! SEVERUS!" Professor McGonagall's oddly shrill voice screamed, seemingly for help. The door stopped moving and my knees damn near buckled in relief as Snape dashed off in the direction of the commotion.

"Well, that was close," Draco breathed. The glare Harry and I leveled at him caused his mouth to snap shut. After checking to make sure that the coast was clear, we hurried towards the library, desperate to get from out in the open. The main area of the Hogwarts library was a massive, cathedral-like place, with two long arms stretching to the left and right of the main entrance, each lined with towering bookshelves at least four or five stories high. Wooden balconies lined each level and polished wooden catwalks overlooked most of the main library, and above us were stain-glass windows, depicting famous moments in wizarding history. Although the round librarian's desk in the center of the room was absent of Madam Pince, we could still see books flying from there up to the shelves where they each belonged. As we searched the impressive library, I saw that there were also antechambers leading off from the main area, where students could have a bit of privacy when studying. The antechambers were also lined with full, high shelves and there were plenty of ancient portraits around the place. There were also many staircases to give students access to the higher floors of the library. As I walked past a plain wooden door with a large lock on it, I shivered as I felt the dark magic leaking from within.

"What the hell is that?" I asked Draco, as he walked up behind me.

"That's the Restricted Section," he answered, giving the door an uneasy glance. "It used to be simply blocked off by a rope and a sign, until _someone_," and by someone I knew he suspected Harry, "broke in our first year and so they put this door up. I suppose it's magically unlocked unless you have a signed pass from a professor."

"They're not here!" Harry growled as he ran towards us. "Where could they possibly be?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly Potter, these are your best mates. Where would they hide if something dangerous got into the school?" he drawled.

Harry stared at Draco for a second before his skin paled. "They wouldn't!" he breathed.

"Wouldn't wha – Harry!"

Muttering about bloody impulsive boys, I chased after him as he raced towards the exit, Draco following close behind. Harry led us back to the main staircase and down to the second floor, where the scent of blood slammed into my nose and I heaved. We crept forward cautiously, seeing blood splattered on the floor and walls at odd angles when we heard a familiar scream. Abandoning all attempts to remain stealthy, Harry and I sprinted down the corridor, sliding in the blood on the floor as we turned the corner into the corridor that held the girls' bathroom.

"Herm – holy shit, what is that?" Harry gasped, scrambling to a stop as we registered the scene in front of us.

"It's a bloody snake, what else would it be Potter?" Draco growled, but I could smell the sweet scent of fear filling up the corridor. However, Draco was, in fact, correct.

The snake, which was currently poised over Ron and Hermione, was certainly the largest snake I had ever seen with my own eyes. It was easily fourteen feet long and as thick as a bulky man's thigh, its deep green scales glinting in the light around us. The unbearable scent of dark magic and venom mixed together in the small space, and I gasped in deep breaths. The sound seemed to attract the snake's attention and it turned around, eyeing the three of us hungrily. As I looked at its scaly face, I was positive that it was a female. She looked at Draco first, and tilted her head in a disturbingly human gesture, causing him to take a slow step backward. If I had to put a name to it, I'd say she recognized Draco – _but that was impossible right?_ Next, she looked at Harry and hissed loudly, baring her fangs. Harry flinched and clenched his wand, but I frowned as I sensed her emotions. She was – _pleased_ about something. It was incredibly creepy.

"Harry," I murmured from the corner of my mouth, "talk to her."

"What?" he breathed incredulously.

"Potter, you're a bloody Parselmouth, that is a goddamn snake – one that could probably swallow us all at once. Talk to the damn snake!" Draco practically snarled, his body trembling the slightest bit, he never even took his eyes off of the snake.

Harry swallowed hard and took a slow step forward, freezing as the snake's eyes snapped to him. I could hear his heartbeat racing incredibly fast, faster than mine or Draco's, or even Ron and Hermione's, as we all stared at the two, utterly silent. I held my breath as Harry opened his mouth, and shivered as – instead of words – a harsh hissing fell forth from his lips. The snake seemed delighted that Harry could speak her language, but whatever she replied caused all the blood in Harry's face to drain.

"What'd she say?" I whispered urgently.

"S-she said – she's here for me," he said numbly.

"What! Why?" I exclaimed.

Before Harry could ask another question, the snake lowered her head and I stood rigidly, hardly daring to breathe as she sniffed me and her tongue darted out over my face. When she raised her head again, she hissed what could only be a snake-ish laugh. It disturbed me how intelligent and humanlike she was. "Why is she laughing?" I muttered to Harry as the snake began to hiss again.

Harry frowned. "She said something like '_So the hatchling is alive – master won't be pleased with the cursed wolf._' I think she's trying to say werewolf, but there's no translation for it." Harry explained slowly.

_Snake – master – cursed wolf..._

"Greyback!" I snarled, a loud growl rumbling from my chest.

"What?" Draco snapped, looking around frantically. "Where?"

"The snake," I growled, glaring at her, "she must belong to Vol –"

The snake shot forward with deadly speed, and I hardly had time to react, shoving Draco and Harry aside and taking a brutal head butt in my stomach. I had the wind knocked out of me as I was slammed onto my back, and desperately gasped for breath. The snake immediately wrapped herself tightly around my ankle and I gripped my wand, pointing it in her face. "_Diffindo!" _I spat, casting a strong cutting curse, mentally cursing as it harmlessly impacted her scales.

_Shit, she must be magically resistant – like dragons._

"_Abigo! Alveusio! Incendio!" _I cast, becoming more and more frantic as the snake tightened her grip on my ankle. Glancing around, I saw that Ron and Hermione had joined Harry and Draco, and the four seemed to be arguing.

"…bloody bastard probably let the snake in!" Ron spat, glaring at Draco. To everyone's shock, Hermione's hand reared back and slapped Ron with enough force that his head snapped to the side.

"Look at Izzy!" she snapped, "This is not the time for some stupid bloody House rivalry!"

_Since when has Hermione ever used foul language_? I idly wondered, shaking the thought away as the four began shooting spells at the snake's back, trying to distract her.

"_INCENDIO!"_ I roared, sending a huge stream of fire into her face. I succeeded in burning her eyes, but this only angered her and she clenched around my ankle, crushing it completely.

Pure, agonizing pain shot up my leg and it was impossible to hold in the ear-splitting scream of pain, but as it burst forth from my throat, it came out as a loud, completely wolfish howl. My eyes watered and my vision began blurring, fading in and out, the coppery scent of blood joining the dark magic in the air. Even as I desperately tried to fight through the pain, any slight moment of my leg sent another jolt of unbearable pain shooting up it.

"_Izzy!"_

Through my excruciating haze, I vaguely heard people screaming my name, two males voices standing out from the others.

"_Izzy, wake up! Come on, get up!"_

_What were they talking about? Was I not awake? And where is this heat coming from? _I wondered lazily, staring around at the black space around me. The strange heat began building and intensifying until I was sure that I should be sweating, but I wasn't. In fact, I couldn't see or feel anything, not even my own body. As the heat became unbearable and searing, I was sure that my body had long since burned to a crisp, inside and out and that must surely explain why I couldn't feel it. Just when I was ready to give in to the pain, I felt a surge of primal power and my vision cleared. With an angry snarl, I curled forward, fangs bared, and clamped onto the snake with as much force as I could possibly muster. To my dark pleasure, it seemed her scales weren't built to withstand a Lycan bite and they sank into her; she let go of my crushed ankle, hissing in pain. Completely unsympathetic, I growled and viciously shook my head from side to side, even as the snake waved her thick body around wildly, trying her damnedest to throw me off. To my surprise, she slammed me against the stone wall and I unlatched my mouth from her body as I dropped and crumpled to the floor.

Squinting through the fresh pain in my torso, I watched Ron, Harry, and Draco futilely cast spell after spell at the snake, distracting her. As she turned to the three boys, Hermione ran and kneeled over me. "Oh Izzy, are you alright?" Hermione said quickly, her eyes glistening as she looked over my bloodied and bruised body.

The snake snapped around and hissed, baring her fangs again, poising her body to strike. I opened my mouth to warn Hermione, but as I tried to speak, I coughed up blood instead, gasping as the pain in my torso surged.

"Izzy! What? What is it?" Hermione asked frantically, trying to hold my head up as it lolled to the side.

"S-s-s," I tried, until my body wracked with bloody coughs again, and my heart constricted in my chest. It was costing me too much to try to speak, even as I felt my supernatural Lycan healing tingling throughout my body; my ankle was too damaged to fix without stronger healing magic, however. My dread mounted as the snake prepared to strike…

"Dammit Granger, move!"

_I must be hallucinating…_ I thought as I watched Draco dive forward and tackle Hermione out of the way just as the snake darted forward, causing her to smash her head into the wall above my head instead, raining crumpled stone over my immobile body. She poised again, shaking away her daze and I remained still so as not to disturb my healing, watching Draco help Hermione to her feet.

"Thank you – Malfoy," Hermione gasped, clutching her chest with a pale hand.

"Not the time Granger, but I will enjoy hearing that later…if we get out of this mess," Draco replied sardonically, hints of his old self resurfacing briefly.

The snake was quite obviously livid now and she tried to strike at Hermione again, but Draco – in an act of Gryffindor-ish bravery – pushed her aside and took the blow, crashing into the wall. I heard a sickening crack and saw blood smear on the wall behind his head as he fell to the floor, completely unconscious. My vision bled red and that heat flared throughout me, fiercer than ever, as I used the wall to pull myself up to my feet. Glaring at the snake, I fell forward on all fours as my fangs and claws grew longer than ever before. I felt the sides of my head tingling before my ears shifted into those of a wolf, and judging from the others gasping and the tingling in my tailbone, I had just sprouted a wolf tail. The rage and bloodlust forced my head back as a vicious howl tore from my throat and numbed the pain in my ankle, causing it to subside to a dull throbbing. Racing forward so fast that the wall behind me exploded from the burst of power, I lunged at the snake, sinking my claws and fangs into her thick body. I ripped and clawed, tearing off chunks of flesh wherever I could.

_She hurt your pack! Kill – Kill – KILL!_ My inner wolf snarled in my head, and I was only too happy to oblige.

As I continued my attack, she wrapped her body around mine and squeezed tightly, but even as I began to see black spots in my vision, I did not stop or slow down. It was as though my body had gone into some sort of ravenous autopilot mode. As I snapped at her head and my vision faded out more and more, I heard dull screaming and an oddly deep voice yelling. Briefly, I noted that no matter how tightly she held me, she'd never once tried to bite any of us…but before I could finish pondering that thought, my vision went black and I sank into peaceful oblivion.

_Expelliarmus: Disarms the target, sometimes sends them flying back_

_Affligo: Strikes a person, as if a physical blow was made_

_Protego: Creates a magical shield (red in color) to deflect spells_

_Abigo: Throws an object/person back; similar to banishing charm_

_Alveusio: Intended to create a large hole in an object (or person)_

_Incendio: Creates a stream of fire_


	13. The Privilege of Honesty

_Previous Chapter:_

_As I continued my attack, she wrapped her body around mine and squeezed tightly, but even as I began to see black spots in my vision, I did not stop or slow down. It was as though my body had gone into some sort of ravenous autopilot mode. As I snapped at her head and my vision faded out more and more, I heard dull screaming and an oddly deep voice yelling. Briefly, I noted that no matter how tightly she held me, she'd never once tried to bite any of us…but before I could finish pondering that thought, my vision went black and I sank into peaceful oblivion._

**Chapter Thirteen: The Privilege of Honesty**

"_**If you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people."**_

For the second time in one week, I awoke to multiple voices and blinding white light. Clenching my eyes shut, I groaned and tried to roll over, only to meet resistance around my wrist, ankles, and neck. A growl bubbled up in chest and although the lights dimmed, I was not appeased. My eyes snapped open and I found myself staring up at seven pale faces. Upon recognizing the faces, I took a deep breath to calm myself but instead inhaled the sweet scent of fear. My mouth began watering and I felt my fangs emerge, causing the group of seven to take a unanimous step backward. Closing my eyes once more, I forced down my sudden hunger, only opening them again when I was completely under control. Clearing my throat, I glared up at the bearded old man standing at the left side of bed, nearest my head.

"Would someone like to explain why I'm tied down to a bloody hospital bed?" I asked, my voice silky and calm, sending shivers down the spines of all, though Snape hid his better than the others as he stared coldly at me.

"Y-you mean you don't remember?" Ron stuttered, standing farthest away from me.

I smiled darkly at him, the paling of his skin somewhat amusing to me. "If I remembered, I wouldn't be asking, now would I Ronald?" I asked sarcastically.

Upon hearing a snort, I looked up to my right and saw Draco standing there, arms folded and a smirk on his lips. "My, my, my Weasley, you aren't scared she'll bite you again, are you?" he taunted.

"I WHAT?" I yelled, straining against my restraints again. With a loud rip, I broke free and sat up, freezing as Dumbledore, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey all pointed their wands at me. Slowly, I scooted back and leaned against the pillows there, eyeing the three adults warily.

"That's not necessary, Professor," Harry said, his voice hard, "she's clearly in control of herself right now."

"You can't be sure of that Potter, keep your mouth shut." Snape said coldly.

"Severus," Dumbledore said warningly, although he lowered his wand, Madam Pomfrey – and more reluctantly Snape – following suit.

"Can we get back to me now, and why you three think it's necessary to hold me at wand point?" I piped up agitatedly.

"I think it would be best if we start with the last thing you remember, Miss Snow?" Dumbledore said calmly, his twinkle suspiciously absent.

_Kill – Kill – KILL!_

The words reverberated in my head and my eyes widened as the event replayed itself in my mind – it was like watching a horror movie in my own head. "We – we were fighting a snake…a really big snake." I started slowly.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, what else?"

I closed my eyes and allowed the memory to wash over me, the fear and desperation, the pain throughout my body – the bloodlust burning inside me. "D-did I kill it?" I whispered, pulling the white sheet tighter around my cold body.

"No," Dumbledore said gravely, "we believe that it had swallowed an emergency portkey, activated if it was severely injured…which it was. I suppose we have you to thank for driving out the beast, Miss Snow."

"Me?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That thing was tossing me around like a ragdoll."

A faint hint of a twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eyes at but he shook his head in disagreement. "Possibly, however, if not for your partial transformation, you and your friends might not have lasted as long as you did against the creature."

"P-partial transformation?" I stuttered, looking around at Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco.

"Those four already witnessed it firsthand, Miss Snow, there's no need to keep this a secret from your friends any longer." Dumbledore said quietly.

Draco glanced disdainfully at the Headmaster, before his expression softened as he gazed down at me. "I was apparently unconscious when you transformed, but judging from Granger's description, I'm certain that I know what you are." He said softly.

"And – and you're okay with that?" I asked disbelievingly.

"In my opinion, it's bloody brilliant and rather useful in a fight, and you're still the same Isavéla to me," he stated firmly. I reached out and squeezed his hand, briefly eyeing the torn cloth that was still wrapped around my wrist.

"I'm not as familiar with magical beings," Harry said, "and so I had to have Hermione and Malfoy explain just why my friend began transforming into a wolf…but if you're a Lycan Izzy, that's perfectly fine by me."

My eyes welled up as Hermione placed a supportive hand on my leg and nodded in agreement, her own eyes glistening. Ron jerked his head in a nod, but remained silent and wouldn't meet my eyes. _Oh well_, I thought, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, I am a Lycan," I said, blowing out a deep breath. I let the confession hang in the air, before I turned back to Dumbledore. "So what happened after I passed out?"

"Severus and I were patrolling, searching for the creature, as were the other professors and prefects, and we simply followed the screaming and spells being cast," he said, almost cheerfully. "When we arrived, you and the creature were locked in a rather gruesome fight. You see, it was missing several large chunks of flesh by that point, and she disappeared moments later."

"I thought no one could portkey, apparate, or disapparate into or out of the castle," I said accusingly. Dumbledore's expression became grave and serious.

"That is what worries me, Miss Snow, but the other professors and I shall renew that protections around the school soon enough. Anyway, you and Mr. Malfoy were both seriously injured and unconscious. Harry here insisted on carrying you to the Hospital Wing himself," Dumbledore continued, graciously not commenting on the matching blushes on Harry's and my face.

"At this rate, you just might beat Mr. Potter's record of numerous trips to my ward throughout the school year, Miss Snow." Madam Pomfrey said, speaking for the first time. "Your ankle was crushed beyond what healing spells could fix and so I had to vanish all the shattered bones, and manually pick out the shards that had pierced your skin."

I twisted my right ankle around, testing it and finding that it felt perfectly fine. "You must've given me Skele-Gro, but that takes hours to do the job. How long have I been out this time?" I asked.

"It is Tuesday afternoon, Izzy," Hermione said slowly, gauging my reaction.

"What?" I shouted. "I was unconscious for two days? Oh Merlin, I missed Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures again! And I had History of Magic and Potions today. I'm –"

"Miss Snow, please regain some measure of decorum," Snape said harshly. My mouth snapped shut and I took slow breaths.

"My apologies," I muttered, "but I promise I'll make up any work I missed, sir."

"I'm sure I warned you to take it easy last time you were in here, Miss Snow," Madam Pomfrey said sternly, "I don't believe fighting a giant magical snake falls into that category. You had several broken ribs, one of which came dangerously close to piercing your heart. It must've been the grace and mercy of Merlin himself that it didn't, especially as you were still fighting that monster in such a condition…"

_I was so close to death, and I didn't even know it…_

"Nearly you're entire body was covered in nasty bruises, but they were mostly healed by the time we had taken care of your more serious injuries," she continued, clearly perplexed.

"Lycan have a naturally advanced healing property in our blood. Small injuries heal almost instantly – more serious ones take more time but can be healed eventually." I explained quietly, still pondering my brief waltz on Death's doorstep.

"Thank you, I'll be sure to add that to your file," she nodded.

I struggled to clear my thoughts, and looked directly at Ron, causing him to flinch. "When did I bite him?" I asked. Suddenly, everyone fell silent and the atmosphere became tense and uncomfortable.

"You –" Hermione started, but her breath caught, and she started over. "You still had your wolf features when we came to visit you yesterday. You seemed to be trapped in some sort of nightmare, and you kept growling and thrashing around, snarling and clawing at anyone who came close to you. That's why they had to tie you down. Ron had gotten too close, and you snapped at him, biting his hand."

I didn't remember anything Hermione had just told me, but I knew she was telling the truth. "I'm truly sorry Ron," I said honestly, before freezing. "You don't feel any differently, do you?"

Ron frowned and shook his head, and I nodded, sighing in relief.

_So I hadn't changed him over – good._

"Somehow the Daily Prophet caught wind of the attack, they've been having a field day ever since," Draco informed me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"What are they saying?" I asked, dread bubbling in my gut.

"They're saying that the Headmaster's losing his grip on the safety around the school," Draco said bluntly, "the troll first year, the basilisk second year, Sirius Black breaking in last, and now this; they even ran the old articles about those incidents. They're saying the castle's protections aren't what they use to be."

_Well, I can't say I disagree with them._

"That's terrible," I said instead, absently unraveling the cloth around my neck and wrists.

"Indeed, but it's nothing that I haven't dealt with before," Dumbledore said calmly. "I thought you might like to know that a recently recovered Mr. Diggory came to visit you multiple times, and Colin Creevey brought his younger brother Dennis to visit you this morning before breakfast."

"Really?" I said, touched beyond comprehension. "I'll have to remember to thank all of them but… Madam Pomfrey, can I leave?"

She gave me a serious look. "Miss Snow, I can't stress how important it is for you to take it easy. Stay in bed as often as possible, no heavy lifting or other strenuous activity. If you end up in here again soon, I'll have to keep you for anywhere from a few days to two weeks, to be sure that you're at full health."

"Understood," I said, looking down, I realized that I was dressed in a hospital gown, which might explained why I was so cold. "Err – what happened to my clothes?"

"I'm afraid they were torn and bloodied when we found you," Dumbledore said, "and I believe your claws shredded your shoes."

_Damn, I really liked those boots. But it's pretty amazing that I was battling in heels…certainly not an easy task._

"Thank you, all of you," I said earnestly.

"Here Izzy," Draco said, handing me a bundle of clothes. From the scent, I knew that they were my own. Draco and I shared a look, and I figured that Isavéla had allowed him to go up to my room and retrieve some things for me.

"Thanks Dray," I said, accepting the bundle, "but if you all don't mind, I'd like some privacy to change."

"Of course," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together, "Miss Snow, you and your friends may head down to dinner when you're done. However, I would like to warn you that nothing remains a secret at Hogwarts, I'm afraid."

"Meaning?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"_Somehow_," Draco said, discreetly glancing at Ron, "the entire school knows that we fought the snake. They've been talking about it for the past two days. It's bloody annoying."

I stared at Draco, before realizing what he was implying. I felt a brief flare of annoyance, before I wondered what Draco had endured these past two days, knowing that his father must've found out by now, but figuring that we could talk about it later. "Thanks for the warning, now if you all don't mind…"

"We'll wait for you out in the corridor," Harry said.

Pulling the screens closed around my bed for privacy, I slowly climbed out of bed, clenching my teeth as my bare feet came in contact with the cold Hospital Wing floor. Spreading out the bundle, I grinned at Draco's choice of clothes. He'd chosen black skinny jeans and dark green booties, along with a matching green tank top and a black leather jacket. "Draco, I'm going to dinner, not out on a date." I muttered, even as I donned the outfit and unraveled the braid in my hair, causing it to fall in shiny black curls. Grabbing my wand off of the nightstand beside me, I strapped it to my right thigh and pushed back the screens. I didn't see or hear Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, or Snape and so I figured they must've already headed down to dinner. Making sure I hadn't forgotten anything, I left the Hospital Wing and saw Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco waiting for me as promised.

"Whoa…" Harry breathed, his cheeks turning pink. Draco shot him a glare.

"Izzy, you look beautiful in green, just as knew you would," he said, smirking.

I laughed and shook my head. "I knew you wanted me Slytherin colors," I said, playing wagging my finger at him. Just then, my stomach rumbled and I blushed. "Let's head down to the Great Hall, I'm starved."

The walk was a short, silent one, each of us lost in our own thoughts about the events of Sunday afternoon. As I thought back to earlier that day, I remembered that Harry, Draco, and I had never finished our conversation. The five of us stopped outside of the Great Hall, and looked at each other. Draco glared at Harry, before rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically. "I never got to finish saying this earlier but…" he paused, "I was wrong about you Potter, about you being a spoiled, attention-seeking, prat. You're still a scar-headed thorn in my side however, and if you tell anyone that I said anything even remotely nice to you, I'll make that snake look like a flobberworm in comparison."

Hermione and Ron's shock seemed to be beyond words or physical reaction, and I raised my eyebrows, watching as Harry shrugged and grinned. "And I was wrong about you as well, Malfoy. But you're still an arrogant, self-absorbed prat," he said calmly. The two boys stared at each other before Draco kissed my forehead, nodded in Hermione and Ron's general direction, and entered the Great Hall without another word.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked as I led our group of four into the Hall. Instantly, all movement stopped and it took only a second before the pointing and whispers began.

"I have no bloody idea…" Harry smiled as we sat down and dug into our evening meal. We deflected the many questions thrown our way, and when dinner was over, Dumbledore stood and asked that everyone let us have our peace and privacy, and not to badger us. As we all stood up and headed for the door, we saw Draco waiting in the corridor, flanked by Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott. I approached him, Harry, Hermione, and Ron following after me.

"Zabini, Nott," I said, nodding politely.

"Snow," the two drawled in unison, making no effort to hide their amusement.

"Are you coming, Draco?" I asked, deliberately being vague.

He looked at his two friends, both of whom sighed dramatically. "Go ahead Draco," Theo said, rolling his eyes, "I suppose we can't have you to ourselves all the time."

"I'll be back later on tonight," he promised, before walking off with the trio and me.

We headed up to East Tower, but before crossing through the barrier, Ron stopped. "I…I'll pass tonight. I'm tired. See you later." He said, before hurrying off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, glancing at Hermione and Harry as we approached Isavéla's portrait.

"He's been acting odd ever since that battle Sunday," Harry said, frowning. "I've tried asking him about it, but he changes the subject every time."

Shrugging, I let the others in and we climbed the dark staircase, entering the common room. I plopped down onto one of the squishier couches and sprawled out tiredly, as Hermione, Harry, and Draco each picked their own chair to sit in. We remained silent for a few minutes before Hermione sat up straighter, and looked suspiciously at us.

"You two seem awfully…cordial lately," she said accusingly, "no fights or arguments in the corridors lately, and you're even sitting in the same room without trying to kill each other, even if you are both friends with Izzy."

Harry and I glanced at each other, and then pointedly looked at Draco, who glared defiantly at us. "No, no, no," he said, folding his arms.

"Draco…"

"No!"

"Malfoy…"

"I said no, Potter!"

"Dray, please…"

"Fine," Draco groaned, resting his head in his hands, "go ahead and tell her. Let's just let the whole bloody world know my tragic story, why don't we?"

"We're just three people Draco, don't be so dramatic," I muttered.

"If you tell anyone," Draco said warningly, pointing his finger at Hermione, who was quite clearly terribly confused, "including that idiot Weasley, I will never give you a day of peace until the day you die, Granger, do you understand me?"

"Understood," she said fearlessly, before eyeing us expectantly.

It took about fifteen minutes to get her caught up on Draco's and Harry's similar backgrounds, Draco's predicament, and what had been discussed before the lockdown on Sunday. When we were done talking, Hermione looked as though she was torn between tears and rage. "That's – that's…" she spluttered angrily.

"I know," I said, sitting up, "and that's why we have to do something, for both of them."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well Malfoy's situation is a bit more severe than mines," he shook his head firmly when Hermione and I opened our mouths, "no listen. Hermione, you know I stay here every year for Christmas, but Malfoy has to go back to his home, with his father. We have to do something before then. I have until the summer hols to figure something out, he doesn't have that kind of time."

"Harry does have a point," I sighed, "we'll have to make Draco a priority."

"You don't –"

"Malfoy be quiet," Hermione cut him off, staring at him with hard eyes, "we've already decided to help you anyway we can, just shut up and accept it."

Draco stared at her, taken aback by her vehemence and concern. "Fine," he bit out.

"As much as I don't like you Malfoy," Harry said suddenly, "I really want to help, but I don't know what I could possibly do. I'm still just a teenager, same as you."

Draco and I shared a loaded glance, and I bit my lip. "The thing is…we need Sirius," I admitted bluntly.

"What?" Harry and Hermione said in unison.

"What do you need Sirius for?" Harry asked defensively.

"Black is next in line to be Head of the Black family," Draco explained, "if he takes up his position, he'll have the power to emancipate me and dissolve my parents' marriage. Once that's done, we're no longer stuck under my father's control."

"I don't understand…" Hermione said slowly.

"It's like this Hermione," I said, slipping into lecture mood, "in this world, all pureblood families have a long and rich history, but some families are much older than others. My family came here from Italy before they even established any sort of official society here, we helped create this place. The Snow family goes back millennia, and that's not counting our history in Italy. We've been here since the beginning, and so we have standing, power, and influence over most other pureblood families. We have centuries' old alliances with certain families, and long held grudges as well. All pureblood families are related in some way, no matter how distantly. In fact Harry," I paused, pulling up the information in my mind, "if my memory is correct, than your paternal grandparents were Charlus Potter and Dorea Black –"

"Black?" Harry and Draco shouted together.

"Yes, I did just say that all pureblood families are related, didn't I? Harry, your grandfather married Dorea Black. That means that your father and Sirius Black are first cousins once removed. Draco's mother is a Black, Sirius's cousin in fact, which means –"

"Harry and Malfoy are cousins, however distantly," Hermione finished.

Both Harry and Draco looked horrified at the thought of being related to their school enemy, and I rolled my eyes.

"Oh stop the dramatics," I said, "and allow me to get back to the point. Draco's mother is a Black first, and a Malfoy second, because she's married to Lucius Malfoy, making Draco half-Black, half-Malfoy. The Blacks are much, much older than the Malfoys, and therefore have more power. If Sirius were to take up his position as Head of the Black family, he could first dissolve Narcissa's and Lucius's marriage, and claim her and Draco as his wards, putting them under his protection and making them virtually untouchable by Lucius. If he felt generous enough, he could grant Narcissa complete freedom, and emancipate Draco, as well."

"I don't know…" Harry said, "Sirius seemed to really hate his family when he talked about them once. Do you think he'd really help?"

"My mother told me that she and Black were pretty close," Draco said quietly.

"How would he take control of the Black family anyway, if he's on the run from the Ministry?" Hermione asked.

"He'd have to go to Gringotts, which is a sort of haven for all people since the Ministry has absolutely no power or jurisdiction within its walls," I said, grinning darkly. "All Sirius has to do is get inside of Gringotts and state his intentions to the right goblin, and the rest is done. That's the easy part – the hard part is actually getting him to agree to it."

"I could write him…"

"No," I said immediately, "You can't put that kind of information in a letter, anyone could intercept it. It'd be more secure to ask him in person."

"But how are we going to accomplish that?" Hermione said, "If Sirius came anywhere near the school…"

"Then we'll just have to leave the grounds and go to him," I said firmly.

"But that's against school rules!"

"We'll give it some time," Harry said finally, "and see what Sirius tries to do next. If he does come near here like he says he is then I'll see about meeting up with him somewhere."

"Dray, until then you just focus on keeping your House off of your back and not giving your father any reason to want to see you sooner than the winter hols," I said softly.

"Blaise and Theo have been helping cover for me, but I can't be seen talking or hanging out with those two," Draco said, jerking his thumb at Harry and Hermione. "My father would – well you know."

"Have you found out who's been writing to your father about you?" I asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, but if I had to pick anybody, it'd be Pansy…"

"But you two are contracted to be married after graduation, why would she do something like that?" I gasped.

"She's probably jealous that I'm spending so much time with you," Draco shrugged, "and figures that if she gets my father suspicious enough, he'll forbid me from associating with you, especially since you're friends with Potter."

"Did – did you say that he and Parkinson are _contracted_ to be married?" Harry asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, it's not uncommon for pureblood families to have marriage contracts made for their children. It's usually a political move – to either create a new alliance, or strengthen an old one." Draco explained briefly. "That's another reason why I'm so desperate for Black to emancipate me. If he can, then I can cancel our marriage contract, but it has to be done before my seventeenth birthday or else it's permanent."

"That's terrible," Hermione whispered.

"Well, those are our traditions, Granger," Draco said tiredly.

"No, I meant being forced to marry Parkinson."

Harry, Draco, and I paused before the four of us burst into laughter.

"Malfoy, thank you again, for saving my life twice in one day," Hermione said, sobering up a few minutes later.

"Don't mention it Granger," he said dismissively.

I grinned as Hermione's cheeks darkened the slightest bit. _This really is too good. I wonder if I could…_

"Hmm…" I said to myself.

"What?" Draco asked, giving me an odd glance.

"Oh nothing, nothing," I said innocently. Judging from Draco's expression, I wasn't fooling anyone. "It's getting late though, we should get to bed. Besides, I have a lot of work to make up."

As the four of us stood up, I stretched and yawned, leading the way out of East Tower. After bidding Harry and Hermione goodnight and watching them pass through the barrier, I shadow-stepped Draco down to the dungeons and allowed him to kiss my forehead.

"You may have been right about Potter," he murmured, "and you've given me hope that my mother and I can be free of that bastard. Thank you Izzy, I knew I made the right choice when I came to you."

"That's what friends are for Dray, goodnight," I said, kissing his cheek before I disappeared in a swirl of wispy shadows. Once I'd showered and climbed into bed, I simply lied there and stared up at the canopy above my head. While some things were starting to progress, I had new questions I needed answered.

_Did that snake truly belong to Him? How she'd get into the school? And what does she know about Greyback and what happened all those years ago?_

"…_hatchling is still alive. Master won't be pleased with the cursed wolf…"_

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I muttered, with only silence as my answer. Sighing, I pulled my comfortable more tightly around me and sank into and uneasy sleep.

The next morning, I awoke reluctantly and went about my usual morning routine, feeling as though my entire body was weighed down. I was incredibly exhausted and longed to do nothing more than climb back into bed and sleep the rest of the week away. As I emerged from my closet, adjusting my tie, I eyed my bed one more time before shaking my head firmly. "No Isavéla, you have plenty of work to make up, no time to think about skipping class…"

Upon passing through the barrier, I found Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco waiting for me. Judging from the distance between Draco and Ron, and the scent of anger in the air, I could only assume that those two had gotten into it again. _If Harry and even Hermione can learn to somewhat get along with Draco, then why can't Ron?_ I thought, rolling my eyes and deciding not to ask. As expected, Draco offered to carry my bag and we headed down for breakfast in semi-tense silence. After a few minutes, I glanced at Harry.

"Don't forget that you're coming with me after breakfast Harry, instead of going to Divination," I said tiredly.

"Huh? Oh, Self-Study today…I almost forgot…" he said distractedly.

Looking around, it seemed as though each of us had something on our minds and so we continued the walk down to the Great Hall in silence. We stopped and allowed Draco to enter a few minutes before us, before we followed and walked along the Gryffindor Table. I stopped behind Dennis and Colin and wrapped my arms both of their shoulders, giving them brief hugs. "Thank you," I said honestly, "for visiting me in the Hospital Wing. That was awfully sweet of you." Straightening up, I squeezed their shoulders gently before sitting in my usual seat and folding my arms on the table, allowing my head to rest on them.

"…Izzy…"

I felt someone gently nudge my shoulder, and I groaned and burrowed deeper into the crook of my arms.

"…Izzy, come on…"

_Nooo…_

"…breakfast…over…last people here…"

_Wait, what?_

Groaning more loudly, I sat up and blearily rubbed my eyes, wondering when the Great Hall had gotten so quiet. Looking around, I saw that I was alone at the Gryffindor Table with Harry, who was staring at me, his forehead wrinkled with worry. I yawned and reached over my head, stretching.

"I'm sorry Harry, I'm just really tired." I apologized, as the two of us stood up. As I slung my bag over one shoulder, Harry walked beside me towards the exit.

"I understand," Harry said softly.

Deciding that it wasn't worth a walk all the way up to East Tower, I pulled Harry into the deserted entrance hall and wrapped my arms around him. He seemed taken aback by the sudden contact and I felt his pulse spike. "Calm down Harry," I whispered, "just relax and watch."

I did it slowly, so that Harry could mentally prepare himself, and gathered the shadows around us. However, to Harry, it just looked like black wisps collecting and circling around us. He gasped as they thickened and the entrance hall outside of them disappeared. His eyes were wide as we stood in pitch darkness for a few seconds before light appeared and grew until my bedroom in Opulence Alley became visible. When the shadows disappeared and I let go of Harry, he sucked in a deep breath and stared at me as though I'd grown a second head.

"Wha –"

"Let's just say I have superpowers," I said sarcastically, heading off Harry's question. "Come on, we have training to do." As I pulled Harry out into the hallway, he finally gathered his voice.

"But I thought no one could portkey or disapparate out of the castle!" he protested.

"I didn't use a portkey and apparation is completely different, and rather unpleasant," I countered. "My particular power is extremely rare or perhaps unheard of, I'm not entirely sure, but because of that, there is no known way to ward against it."

"Ward?" Harry asked slowly.

I paused outside of the training room and stared at Harry. "You don't know what wards are?" I asked, to be sure.

"No, I don't," he answered, his chin coming up defensively.

"I'll explain later, come on in," I sighed, pushing open the unmarked door and pulling out my wand. I cast a spell to unroll the mats on the floor and gestured for Harry to sit down on them as I walked over to a hanging cupboard on the back wall and opened it, scanning through the dozens of little vials within. Upon finding the right one, a light blue potion inside, I closed the cupboard and sat down in front of Harry. "Here," I said, handing him the vial, "this is the first of many potions you'll have to drink to help your body get up to where it should be."

Harry stared at the potion for a second, before sighing. "If you say this will help Izzy…then I trust you." And with that, he uncorked the vial and downed the potion in one gulp, gagging at the taste. "Ugh, that's absolutely horrid!"

"Most potions have a disgusting taste," I said calmly, taking the vial from him and setting it aside.

"I always suspected that Madam Pomfrey did it on purpose," Harry grumbled.

"She does, as do most Healers and mediwizards. If potions tasted good, it'd be easier for someone to develop a dependency or addiction to them, since they'd like the taste." I explained briefly.

"People can become addicted to potions…like drugs?" Harry asked.

"Of course, I'm sure you've heard of muggles becoming dependent on pills and other muggle medications; the same can happen with potions." I said, before shaking my head. "But we're not here for that. Get up."

After I took Harry through basic stretches and exercises that didn't require equipment, including push-ups, crunches, etc., I shadow-stepped us to a muggle park and made him jog four laps around the track, making it a mile. By the time we were done, Harry was covered in sweat and gasping for breath, and so I took pity on him and allowed him to sit on a nearby bench and take a break. I handed him a cold water bottle and watched him drink it as though he were a man that had been stranded in a desert for days. When he'd finally regained the ability to speak, he looked desperately at me.

"Izzy, I don't think I can do this every day," he said, shaking his head.

"I never took you for a quitter, Harry," I said calmly, drinking from my own water bottle. I had barely broken a sweat. "Besides, you only ran one lap and you haven't even started lifting weights yet."

"Lifting weights?" he said incredulously.

"You desperately need to build some muscle," I answered bluntly. "No offense Harry, but I'm sure even you don't like being as thin as you are. Well, there's no potion that's going to give you muscles or the perfect body. No, that requires hard work and dedication, but if you're not up to the task…"

"Do you think I can do it, Izzy?" Harry asked quietly.

"It's not about what I think you can do, Harry, it's about what _you_ believe you can do. You have to be your own motivator. Do this for yourself, not for me or anyone else. However, I do have faith in you, and I think that if you truly put your mind to it, then you could make a huge difference in your life." I said, giving him a sideways glance.

Harry remained silent for a few minutes, and I let him have that time to himself, and simply enjoyed the fall breeze that drifted around us.

With a sigh, Harry stood up. "Come on Izzy, we have a run to finish."

About forty minutes later, I appeared in my bedroom in East Tower after dropping Harry off in his dorm in the Gryffindor Tower. I peeled off my sweaty clothes and stepped into the hot shower, sighing happily as the water cascaded onto my skin. As I stood underneath the hot spray, I allowed myself to ponder Harry's first training day. After completing four more laps around the track, I had shadow-stepped us back to my house and pulled out the equipment after I'd let Harry take another break. I had started Harry off fairly easily with the weights, and I briefly wondered how he'd feel if he knew I could lift a few hundred pounds more than he could. But all in all, it had given me a chance to assess Harry's physical strengths and weaknesses, and as I showered, I mapped out a plan in my mind. After drying off and dressing in my uniform, I met Harry outside the barrier and we headed down to Charms, where we found Hermione and Ron waiting for us.

"How was your first day of training?" Hermione asked as we walked up.

"Tiring," Harry said bluntly, his hair still slightly wet and curled from his shower.

"Productive," I added brightly, grinning up at Harry. "And we have a double free period after lunch, so we can continue." I laughed as Harry groaned. "Don't worry Harry, it's not more physical training."

Charms passed in a blur, and after taking the appropriate notes and demonstrating the spell that Professor Flitwick was lecturing us on, I used the rest of the class period to catch up on my Potions homework. During lunch, I scarfed down several huge roast beef sandwiches, seeing as I had missed breakfast, and deflected Harry's constant questioning on what we would be doing during our free period. When the bell finally rang and Harry and I separated from Hermione and Ron, I stopped him in a deserted corridor.

"Do you know anywhere private in the castle where we can train?" I asked Harry. "Somewhere with plenty of place, somewhere secure, where we can make a lot of noise without anyone coming to investigate…"

"There's one place that fits that description, but I don't think…"

"Excellent, show me," I said brightly.

Harry eyed me uneasily before he gave a deep sigh. "Follow me," he breathed.

Five minutes later, I gave Harry a hard look. "The corridor where we fought the snake?" I asked suspiciously, looking around at the newly repaired hall. There were hardly any signs of a fight, at all, except for the faint lingering scent of blood and dark magic in the air.

"No," he said, gesturing to the girls' bathroom, "there."

Before I could ask, Harry pushed open the door and I had no choice but to follow after him. Upon entering the bathroom, I couldn't help but mutter, "This has to be the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom I've ever been in."

The bathroom's wooden cubicles were all worn and ill-maintained, with two of the doors just barely hanging onto their hinges. The room was dim and poorly lit by candles which were in holders that adorned the walls in evenly spaced spots. And even the stone sinks, which formed a row underneath a large cracked and spotted mirror, were chipped. Looking around the bathroom, I didn't see or feel anything special about it. I raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"If this is some sort of joke…"

"Shh," Harry whispered, "just watch."

I fell silent as Harry slowly approached the row of sinks and stopped in front of one of them, before running his fingers lightly over the tap there. I was confused, but watched Harry's face as he seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, his eyes briefly losing focus. He took a deep breath and when he spoke, I shivered as, once again, soft hissing fell from his lips instead of actual words. The hiss was short and we waited in silence for several seconds before the tap that Harry had touched began to glow a bright white light and started to spin. The next second, the sink began to move and to my shock, sank right out of sight, revealing a large pipe, easily wide enough for a large man to slide into.

"What the hell…" I gasped, staring into the darkness and recoiling as a musty smell reached my nose.

"This is the hidden entrance to," Harry paused dramatically, "the infamous Chamber of Secrets."

"_This _is how that bloody basilisk was getting around the castle?" I asked, amazed. "Wait…are we actually going down in the actual Chamber of Secrets?" I was unashamed at the bubbling excitement in my voice.

"You seem way too excited about this…" Harry muttered, "but yes, if you would like to look around, we can go down there. I have to warn you though, it's absolutely filthy."

"Nothing cleaning charms and a hot shower can't fix later, let's go!" I said, before grabbing onto the edge of the pipe and swinging right in, Harry's voice calling my name fading as I slid away. It was rather like rushing down a waterslide, except it was a seemingly endless, slimy, dark waterslide. I could see more pipes branching off in all directions, though none as large as the one I was in, and I had to wonder how elaborate of a labyrinth this place was. The pipe twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and as the air became damper and denser, I knew that I must've been miles underneath the school, deeper than even the dungeons. Behind me, I could hear Harry sliding down as well, cursing as his limbs banged against the curves.

"This was much easier in second year!" He growled.

And finally, when I began to wonder how long this slide would go on for, the pipe leveled out and I shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on a damp stone floor and rolling up to my feet. As I waited for Harry to fall out of the pipe, I looked around at the dark stone tunnel that I had arrived in; it was certainly large enough to stand in. A few seconds later, Harry came whizzing out of the pipe, covered completely in slime and muck, and looking down at my uniform, I saw that I was in the same state.

"We have to be miles under the school, under the lake at least," I said, my voice echoing in the dark tunnel as I looked around at the dark, slimy walls. First, I created several balls of wizard's light and pushed them up toward the ceiling to better light the tunnel, casting deeper shadows in the crooks and corners. Surrounded by all of the darkness, I felt an odd sort of comfort down there.

"How'd you do that without your wand?" Harry asked, clearly impressed.

"It's the first bit of controlled magic that most magical children who live in the wizarding world learn from their parents." I explained, even as I pulled my wand from its holster. "_Lumos!_" I cast, the tip immediately lighting up brilliantly.

Harry lit his own wand and gestured down the tunnel, "Come on," he said.

We walked side-by-side, our footsteps echoing loudly on the wet floor until I felt and heard crunching underneath my feet. Lowering my want to see, I saw that the floor was littered with hundreds of small animal bones. "Gross," I muttered, before we continued on. Further down the tunnel, I stopped as I saw a huge pile of giant rocks and chunks of stone. "Did this tunnel cave in or something?" I asked.

"Lockhart…" Harry said by way of explanation.

"When he tried to attack you and Ron?" I clarified, nodding as Harry did.

It took a few minutes to levitate a few of the bigger rocks out of the way in order to make a larger hole that we could both fit through. Once we'd squeezed through the opening, I froze upon seeing a huge dark shape before us. Reaching out with my hearing, I could only hear Harry heartbeat as well my own.

"It's just a snake skin from the basilisk," Harry explained, gently tugging me closer.

The wandlight washed over the giant snake skin and I saw that it was a vivid, poisonous green color, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The basilisk that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at the time. "Do you know how rare and valuable basilisk skin is? Especially intact like this one is?" I asked, my voice raising a few octave. "Not only could this skin easily fetch tens of thousands of galleons, but if the actual corpse is still in the main chamber, you have in your possession hundreds of thousands of galleons worth of potions ingredients and other material. Every single part of a basilisk can be harvested and used for something!"

Seemingly overwhelmed by this information, Harry shook his head frantically. "But – but it's Slytherin's snake, not mine!" he protested.

"No Harry," I said, grinning largely, "you killed it and therefore it is yours, by right of conquest."

"I don't want it," he said firmly, "I already have enough money in my Trust Vault, I don't need any more."

To say I was amazed was a severe understatement. The opportunity to have such riches and resources would tempt any person, wizard, muggle, or otherwise. But Harry was serious, that much I could tell. "I'm sure you have loads of galleons in all of your vaults Harry, but this is the opportunity of a lifetime."

He shook his head. "I only have a trust vault," he said seriously.

I stared at him, my grin returning. "You're joking, right?" I asked.

"Joking about what?" he said, eyeing me warily.

"About having one vault…that's impossible. All pureblood children have a trust vault set up when they're first born, but there's also the main family vault, as well as any personal vault your parents may have had." I explained, watching Harry's confusion grow.

"I've never seen or heard of any other vault besides my trust vault," he countered. "When Hagrid took me shopping in Diagon Alley for the first time, he said Dumbledore gave him my trust vault key so that I could buy school supplies. That's it."

"Is that why you never where your Potter signet ring?" I asked.

"My – what?" Harry asked.

I held out my hand, and his eyes widened as he remembered the ring I had showed him at the World Cup, moments before the attack. "Pureblood children only where Heir or Heiress rings until their parents pass away or are too old or unable to continue leading the family, and then, when that happens, they obtain the Lord or Lady signet ring. It's mostly used to show your status, seal official letters and other correspondence, and to cast your vote in the Wizengamot. Being the last of the Potter line, you should've been informed of your position and trained to become Lord Potter as early as age 10. You should've had advisors and a regent who would cast your vote and handle family business on your behalf, after consulting with you first, of course, until you were ready to do it yourself. I chose not to have advisors or regents because I already knew what I needed to know and I didn't trust anyone to take care of my family other than myself."

"I didn't know any of that…how would I have known if I was raised in the muggle world?" Harry asked.

"Well, because you're an orphan, it's the job of your magical guardian to tell you that kind of stuff…who is your magical guardian anyway?" I asked, honestly curious. Whoever his magical guardian was had a lot of explaining to do and could easily face many years in prison.

"I didn't even know I had one until you just told me, Izzy. I'm so confused…"

Theories and suspicions began to form in my mind, but outwardly, I shrugged and tried to give Harry a reassuring smile. "We'll talk about it later Harry, let's see this infamous chamber."

Caught off guard by my sudden change in attitude, Harry nodded and led the way on, the tunnel turning and turning again. I was ready for the tunnel to end, as I was now rather excited about what I would find on such a historic exploration. I doubted that Salazar Slytherin would create a chamber with only one room, so who knows what we could find in this place? And then, at last, we walked around another bend and saw a solid wall ahead on which two large, entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

_Those emerald alone would fetch thousands of galleons with the right dealer…_ I couldn't help but think. My own family vault contained many valuable jewels such as those emeralds. My father had been a collector of sorts, sometimes taking souvenirs while he was out doing a…job.

The snake eyes had a strange, lifelike quality to them and I had to assume that they contained some sort of magic within them. Harry cleared his throat and I prepared myself this time, managing not to shiver as Harry hissed at the two snakes. I wondered if I would ever get use to that sound, even as the serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight. As we walked inside, I found that we were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. Excitement mounting, I created and sent up at least two dozen balls of wizard's light, each individual ball requiring only a small amount of magic to make. As their soft white light washed over the place, illuminating dark corners, the true extent of the chamber became apparent, but what caught my immediate attention however, was the absolutely enormous snake corpse right in front of us. As I stared at it, a million questions and thoughts raced through my mind in the span of seconds.

"That thing has to be at least fifty feet long," I gasped, trying to steady my racing heart, "that skin back there must've been when it was younger."

"I'm surprised it hasn't rotted yet," Harry commented nonchalantly, staring absently at the beast.

"Magical creatures don't begin to decompose until their innate magic has completely dissipated. But given the age and size of this basilisk, that won't be for at least another few hundred years," I breathed, still lost in my amazement. "Harry, if you sold this thing, you, your children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and so on would never have to work another day in your lives, no matter how frivolous a lifestyle you all lived."

"I told you, I have no use for riches," Harry said firmly.

"If you don't want it for yourself, then use the money for something worthwhile," I said impatiently, "donate it to a charity or St. Mungo's hospital, buy a bloody quidditch team, anything…just don't let it waste away here with no purpose."

"I suppose I never thought about it that way…" Harry said slowly. "I'll think about it."

Knowing that that was the best answer I'd get from him at the moment, I shrugged and crept around the creature. As I drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. I had to lean back slightly to look into the giant face above, and I noted that it was ancient and had slightly monkey-ish features, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous grey feet ended at the bottom of a deep, murky pool.

"Slytherin sure was full of himself, I see…" I muttered, "a bloody waste of stone if you ask me."

"What do you think? Is this place big enough to train in? If we move the snake, that is…" Harry said, walking up behind me.

"Of course, this main chamber is more than large enough but…do you honestly think that Slytherin would've built a chamber just to house a snake and a giant statue of himself? Unless he's the most narcissistic person ever and enjoyed admiring the statue every day, then that doesn't add up to me." I said persuasively.

"What? You think there's more to the Chamber than this?" Harry asked, looking around at the smooth walls that had previously been covered by shadows before I'd brightened the Chamber with my wizard's light.

"Who knows? But there's only one way to find out…" I trailed off, looking expectantly at Harry.

"You don't know what we could find in here, Izzy. It could be booby trapped." He protested.

"While I'm proud that you're thinking this through, I must admit that I'm surprised that the great Harry Potter is shying away from adventure." I teased.

Harry puffed up dramatically. "Me? Shy away from adventure? No way. How do you want to do this, Izzy?"

_Too easy…_

"Well, I suppose we'll do this the same way we entered the Chamber in the first place. Parseltongue is one of the rarest abilities in the world and Slytherin must've known that. If he wanted to conceal his greatest secrets, he'd have to have done it in the one magical language that probably he alone could speak at the time." I said, thinking out loud.

"So I'm supposed to just walk around the Chamber, asking for rooms?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged. "Why not? Ask for something specific."

I felt anticipation soar as I followed Harry over to a blank stretch of wall and he took a deep breath. As a string of soft hisses escaped his mouth, I waited with baited breath and only just stopped my jaw from dropping as a black door appeared in front of us. There were odd, squiggly symbols on the door and I frowned, seeing that they weren't any language I had ever seen before.

"I guess we found the library," Harry said, smiling brightly.

"How do you know that's the library?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "It clearly says 'Library' on the door, Izzy."

"You can read that? It looks like little squiggles to me!" I said, before understanding dawned. "It must be written Parseltongue! Which explains why you can read it and I can't! I didn't even know Parseltongue could be written, but I suppose it makes sense, since I heard that it could be used for spells…"

"There are Parseltongue spells?" Harry said quickly.

"It's only a rumor, no one really knows. But if there's anywhere that we'd find that sort of information, it would be Salazar Slytherin's personal library." I said excitedly. Reaching out, I grasped the silver doorknob and pushed the door open. It seemed Slytherin was confident in his ability to hide the room with Parselmagic because the door itself was unlocked. The room was moderately sized, with tall bookshelves covering three of the four walls, with a couch and small wooden table in the center of the room, facing a small fireplace. Although everything was covered in thick layers of dust and who knows what else, the bookshelves were obviously filled with priceless tomes and journals that hadn't been touched or even seen in centuries.

"We'll need house-elves," I breathed reverently, "there's no way we can clean this without damaging books this old. Ask for other rooms."

By the time twenty minutes had passed, we'd found a rather grand study, a potions lab, a large bedroom, a slightly smaller bedroom, a storage room, and a weaponry room. I was practically vibrating with excited, and I just knew that Draco would die and go to heaven if he knew about this place and all that it contained. After having Harry ask for random rooms, just to see if they'd appear, we also found a sort of dungeon with cells that actually had skeletons in them, as well as several secret entrances that led somewhere into the castle. There was also a small kitchen and an attached dining area, and of course, everything was covered in thick layers of dust.

"Judging from the layers of dust here," I said as we finally returned to the main chamber, "I'd say that there's no way that Voldemort found these other rooms when he was a student, which can only be a good thing. Who knows what would've happened if he'd had Salazar Slytherin's personal tomes at his disposal."

"Yes, you're right but we should be getting back," Harry said, checking his watch. "We have about twenty minutes before dinner starts."

"I'll have my house-elf round up some trustworthy school elves to help clean this place, and we can return when we have time." I was about to shadow-step us up to the seventh floor, before an idea hit me. "Why don't we go up one of those secret passageways we found? That way we can find out where they lead to."

We walked through the first one we'd found and discovered that it ended in a dark corner of the entrance hall, and when we'd stepped out of it, the stone slid back into place and showed no trace of an opening. I shadow-stepped Harry up to the seventh floor and we went our separate ways. I hurried up to my bathroom, stripped out of my slimy, soiled uniform and stepped into the hot shower for the third time that day. When I'd scrubbed my skin raw and shampooed my hair several times, I finally wrapped myself in a towel and headed for my closet, dumping the dirty clothes in a hamper just inside the door. I was extremely exhausted and decided on a simple pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, along with white trainers to go down to dinner in, letting my hair fall down my back. The only thing I took with me was my wand and I lazily drifted down to dinner; I realized that I must've been in the shower longer than I thought, because as I entered the Great Hall, I saw that dinner was well under way. Thankfully, it seemed that the rest of the students had finally gotten used to having me around because I was only subjected to a few glances rather than an en mass staring session. Sitting down at the Gryffindor Table between Harry and Neville, I piled shepherd's pie, roast chicken, and lamb chops on my plate, along wither other non-meat foods before digging in with eagerness.

"Are you lot ready for Moody's class tomorrow?" Harry asked suddenly.

We fell silent as we thought back to last week's lesson and I could tell that each of us wondered what was in store for us the next day. Dinner passed with each of us contributing our own theories as to our next DADA lesson, but as dinner ended, I told the others that I would pass on hanging out in the Gryffindor common room for a little while and headed straight for East Tower. The second I climbed into bed and laid my head down on my pillow, I was fast asleep.


	14. New Additions

_Previous Chapter:_

_We fell silent as we thought back to last week's lesson and I could tell that each of us wondered what was in store for us the next day. Dinner passed with each of us contributing our own theories as to our next DADA lesson, but as dinner ended, I told the others that I would pass on hanging out in the Gryffindor common room for a little while and headed straight for East Tower. The second I climbed into bed and laid my head down on my pillow, I was fast asleep._

**Chapter Fourteen: New Additions**

"_**Difficulties strengthen the mind, as labor does the body."**_

Although I had begun to slowly adjust to life at Hogwarts, my days there could never be considered boring – not by a long shot. For one, our lessons were becoming increasingly more difficult and demanding, something I reveled in after I'd caught up in Potions, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures, despite the fact that Professors Sprout and Hagrid had agreed to let my absences slide. Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were particularly difficult, but if nothing else, I loved a challenge and I excelled in his class due to my previous training and dedication to not only the subject, but also the man teaching it. The fact that I had quickly surpassed Hermione and Harry as top Defense student in both theory and practical respectively did nothing to cause a rift in our friendship, however, Ronald seemed to become grumpier and moodier with each lesson. Though we shouldn't have been surprised, we were understandably speechless when Professor Moody announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and see whether we could resist its effects.

"But—but you said that it's illegal Professor," Hermione said uncertainly that day as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "To use it against another human is not only immoral, it's—"

"Miss Granger," Moody said softly, something that struck fear in the hearts of many of our classmates, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare, "Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like. However, if you'd rather learn the way – when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely, when they can take advantage of a young female like yourself –fine by me, you're excused. Off you go." He pointed on gnarled finger toward the door.

Although I would've chosen a different choice of words, Moody was right. It was best to experience this and learn to fight this curse off in a classroom – a controlled environment where nothing serious could happen to us. I stood in front of Hermione's pale face, blocking out Moody, and stared her directly in the eye as I gently grabbed her arms. "You're much stronger than you think Hermione, I know you are. And if anyone's got a strong mindset and strength of character, it's you. I know you can do this."

Slowly, as the color returned to her face, I saw a familiar glimpse of determination in her cinnamon eyes and we wore matching grins. After nodding seriously, Hermione looked directly at Moody, who was watching us intently. "No thanks Professor, I'd rather stay," Hermione said calmly.

Harry and I grinned at each other. _That's my girl_, his expression seemed to say as he looked at her, standing fearlessly in front of Moody.

As class officially began, Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. We watched as, one by one, our classmates did the oddest things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville even performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics that he certainly would not have been able to do of his own volition. Not one of them seemed to be able to completely fight off the curse, not even Ron, who was forced to get on all fours like a dog, and chase his own imaginary tale. When Moody had cancelled the spell, Ron's foul mood only worsened and he remained at the back of class, glaring at Moody, his face still red from embarrassment.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."

Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom where there was empty space, and I admit that I was more interested in Harry's results than anyone else's, besides Hermione's. Harry took a deep breath and braced himself as Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "_Imperio!"_

We all watched with baited breath as Harry's face calm and peaceful, in fact, his eyes looked almost dreamy, as if he had no worries, but we all knew that it was an effect of the spell. He started to bend his knees but hesitated. I watched his eyes flicker briefly, before he did a sort of half-jump and smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over. Perhaps the blow cancelled the spell or Moody did, but I hurried forward and pulled Harry up to his feet, checking to make sure his head wasn't injured. He had a slight bump that I easily healed, and he murmured thanks as he shot a glare at Moody, who seemed absolutely delighted.

"Look at that, you lot – Potter fought! He fought it and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention—watch his eyes, that's where you see it—very good Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!" He forced Harry under the spell several more times before Harry could throw it off within seconds, and once he'd accomplished that, he walked back to Hermione and me, smiling broadly.

"Don't let that go to your head, Potter," I teased.

"Miss Snow," Moody said silkily, and I stiffened, "front and center."

Standing as tall as I could with my petite frame, I walked into the clear space and cleared my mind, blocking out the stares of my classmates. I locked eyes with Hermione's encouraging eyes and focused on them, even as Moody muttered, _"Imperio!"_

I felt a sudden peace come over me and my body relaxed. For some reason, I knew that this peace was wrong…that I shouldn't be feeling it…but I didn't care. With all of the stress that I'd been facing recently, I didn't want to step out of this worriless state of mind.

_**Go punch Potter**__…_A voice reverberated inside my head.

_But why? Harry hasn't done anything to me…_

_**Don't question it…just do it…Go punch Potter…**_The voice said persuasively.

_But I don't want to…no, I won't…_

_**Go PUNCH Potter…**_The voice said more forcefully.

I felt irritation flare briefly. If there was one thing I hated – it was being told what to do.

_No. _I thought firmly.

_**GO PUNCH POTTER!**_The voice roared.

"NO!" I shouted aloud, the odd peacefulness breaking. As I gasped for breath, I realized that I was on my hands and knees, my hair curtaining my face, and the entire class was silent, staring at me.

"Excellent work Miss Snow, as expected. Your turn is finished. Granger, you're up." Moody said quietly.

I waved off Harry's offered hand and climbed to my feet on my own, feeling a wave of nausea pass over me. I withheld the heave that rose within me and took another deep breath, reassuringly grasping Hermione's shoulder as we passed each other. "It's easier than you think," I said, giving her a strained smile, "just say no."

With a firm nod, Hermione stood in the center of the classroom, being the last student to have a go. She stared right as me as Moody immediately placed the spell on her and I watched her face clear. There was a tense moment of silence before Hermione slowly began reaching for her wand. Her movements were jerky, and I could tell that she was doing her damnedest to fight the spell. She finally grasped her wand, her eyes still dreamy, and the class gasped as a whole as she pointed it directly at me. Before I could speak, she hit me in the leg with a rather strong stinging hex.

"Shit!" I cursed as I dropped to one knee, clutching my red leg. Harry knelt down beside me and helped me back up to my feet; I grimaced but quietly healed the bruise that had instantly bloomed on my thigh.

"Oh Izzy, I'm so sorry!" Hermione gasped as she came to.

"It's perfectly alright Hermione," I said, taking a deep breath, "I know you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Hermione nodded uncertainly before her eyes hardened and she turned a cold glare on Moody, who stared unblinkingly at her. "I want to try again," she said firmly.

"Very well," Moody said. "_Imperio!"_

This time, as Hermione raised her wand again, it took longer and her movements were even more erratic. However, after two minutes, I had to duck under another stinging hex and I shot Moody a venomous look. He shrugged.

"It's good motivation Snow, don't be a spoilsport." He reprimanded.

"Again," Hermione demanded.

"Ah, we've got us a feisty one today," Moody laughed darkly. He obligingly put the curse back over Hermione for the third time and I braced myself, ready to dodge another hex. As the minutes ticked by, Hermione's face became less peaceful and more concentrated. Her brows furrowed but she was still struggling against the force pulling her wand arm up. After five minutes passed, I gasped as her nose abruptly began bleeding.

"Professor, stop!" I said quickly, taking a step forward. Harry grabbed my arm.

"Let her do this," he said softly, never taking his eyes off of his friend.

As the blood ran down over her lips and another minute ticked by, she muttered something that no one could make out. Her entire body tensed before her eyes cleared and she shouted, "I said NO!"

The class was deathly silent before we all – minus Ronald – burst into loud applause for Hermione, just as the bell rang. Red faced but clearly pleased with herself, Hermione hurried over to us and I conjured a napkin.

"Thank you," she said as she wiped her face.

"That was a bang-up job Mione," Harry said encouragingly.

"Yes, you did really great Hermione, I'm proud of you." I said, throwing my arm around her shoulder in a one-armed hug.

"Wasn't she amazing Ron?" Harry said, turning to face his silent friend.

"She was alright, I suppose…for a –"

"For a what, Ronald?" Hermione snapped, standing in front of Ron, stopping him from continuing to walk. "Alright for a girl – or perhaps for a muggleborn?" Ron's silence only seemed to anger Hermione more and she took a step forward and jabbed her finger into his chest. "If you were going to say '_for a girl'_, that's a laugh, considering that both Izzy and I did a lot better than you did! But if you were going to say '_for a muggleborn'_, I'd say that you're no better than the old Malfoy and for you to get over yourself!"

The three of us were left speechless as Hermione stormed off, and I glared at Ron. "You seriously need an attitude adjustment, Ronald!" I growled before running off after Hermione. When I caught up to her, she was almost in tears and was shaking with fury. I approached her warily, unsure of how Hermione acted once angered, but when she didn't lash out, I pulled the girl into a tight hug and felt her wrapped her arms around my waist as her body finally trembled with suppressed sobs. "Shh Hermione, it's okay. Ronald's an insensitive prat, I'm sure you knew that already." I murmured, delicately not mentioning the fact that her bushy hair was suffocating me.

"It's j-just that – a stupid part of me t-thought that R-Ronald would actually be a bit more mature this year. We're not first years anymore," she cried into my shoulder, and I couldn't help but realize that I had held at least four crying people since I'd come to Hogwarts.

"Hermione, not one bit of you is stupid, so don't ever put yourself down like that, especially not over a boy who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air you do, let alone receive your attentions –" I paused as I suddenly understood what Hermione was saying. "Oh," I said awkwardly, "so you…had feelings for Ronald? Is that it?"

"I know," she said, pulling back and wiping her red face with the back of her hand, "ridiculous right? Ronald and I do nothing more than argue over completely pointless things, he never supports anything I do, and he's been putting me down since first year. But – but I thought that he'd mature if I gave him time…"

_I truly do not understand…Ron is rude, abrasive, he has no manners, and he's not all that attractive anyway. Hermione could do so much better, someone with her level of intelligence, at least._

"Hermione…err – sometimes boys like Ron never change, and they become little boys in grown men bodies in the future. But you Hermione, you're beautiful," I said honestly, forcing her to look at me as she snorted. "Hermione, you are beautiful," I stated firmly, "and you deserve someone that will treat you like a bloody princess, someone who you can actually have an intelligent conversation with, someone that would be proud to show you off to everyone he meets and lives to make you happy. You need a gentleman Hermione, not a temperamental immature boy like Ron."

_I have no idea what I'm talking about – I've never even had a bloody boyfriend before. But – but I saw what my mother and father had. That was true love. They lived for each other, they loved each other, and they died for each other. That's what I want for myself someday._

Hermione sniffled and gave me a watery smile. "Thank you Izzy, you really are a good friend. And I – I suppose you're right. I'll just have to give up this stupid crush on Ron, then."

"Izzy!"

Looking over Hermione's shoulder, I saw Draco hurrying towards us and Hermione's face flushed brilliantly. He stopped and I could sense that he was truly agitated.

"Are you two okay?" he said quickly. "Potter told me you'd run after Granger after you both had a go at Weasley." He looked at Hermione red, wet face and I hid a smile as his expression softened the slightest bit. He pulled a clean, neatly folded silver and green handkerchief from his pocket with his initials embroidered on the corner, and handed it to Hermione, who was clearly shocked and speechless.

"Take it Granger," he said, his voice neither soft nor mocking. When Hermione didn't react, he reached out and took her hand, opening it and placing the handkerchief in her palm, before curling her fingers over it. His hand lingered briefly over hers before he dropped them.

"B-but I thought you wouldn't want to touch a muggleborn," Hermione said, almost suspiciously, "let alone give your handkerchief to one."

"Yes, you're a muggleborn – but that doesn't change the fact that you're a girl first, and one in need of a handkerchief." Draco said firmly.

Hermione stared at Draco before shoving his handkerchief into his hand and giving him a cold look. "Forget it Malfoy, I don't need your pity!" she snapped before whirling around and running in the opposite direction.

Draco looked as lost as I felt and stared down at the green cloth in his hand. "What'd I do?" he muttered quietly.

I gently squeezed his shoulder. "She's just confused right now Draco, and she needs time to think about some things." I said, staring in the direction Hermione had run. "Come on, let's go to dinner."

As we walked, my anger and sympathy were waging war in my head. One on hand, I wanted to tear Ron a new one, but if I knew Hermione, then I knew that that wouldn't make her feel any better. On the other hand, I had a feeling I knew exactly what Hermione needed and my time and energy was better spent accomplishing that. After a few minutes, I peeked at Draco in peripheral vision. "So Dray…" I said slowly.

"Yes, Izzy?" he glanced over at me.

"What do you think of Hermione?" I said innocently, hiding a grin as Draco nearly missed a step.

"W-what do I think of Granger? Why would you ask a ridiculous question like that?" He asked, recovering himself.

"I'm curious – humor me."

"Fine," he said, pausing as he thought, "she's a bushy-haired, bucktoothed, overbearing, know-it-all Gryffindor that's been one of three thorns in my side since first year."

"Draco –" I said warningly.

"You asked me a question, I'm going to answer it honestly," he said seriously. "But – but she's also clearly kind, caring, good-hearted, bloody brilliant, strong-willed, rather interesting actually, and –" he faltered and looked down at his feet as we walked, "and she's pretty, but if you tell her or anyone else I said any of those things –"

"You'll do nothing Draco, because I'm one of your best friends. What's so wrong about thinking good things about Hermione?" I asked seriously, inwardly smiling at all the good things Draco had said about her.

"She's a muggleborn," Draco said immediately.

I stopped and grabbed his arm. "I thought you didn't have the same mindset as your father, Draco." I said harshly.

"I don't," he said, yanking his arm from my hand, "but I know what you're trying to do. It'd never work."

_Damn, so much for being discreet._

"And why is that, Draco? My mother was a muggleborn and my father was a prominent pureblood." I said.

"Yes, but your mother was born into an ancient family that was thought to have died out decades ago," Draco countered.

"Draco, if you like her –"

"Who ever said I liked Granger?" Draco said finally, as we stopped outside the full Great Hall. "It'll never happen, Izzy, so get those ridiculous little notions out of your head."

He entered the Hall and left me out in the corridor, stunned but more determined than ever. When I sat down at the Table, I saw that Hermione and Neville had switched places, so that Neville was beside Ron and I was now between Harry and Hermione. The atmosphere was tense, but they seemed to be talking about Moody's lesson.

"The way he talks," Harry said as he stabbed at a red potato on his plate, "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Yeah I know," Ron said, pointedly ignoring Hermione and me, "Talk about paranoid… No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted _'Boo'_ behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

"Moody's right though," I said to Harry, ignoring Ron the same way he was ignoring me, "we could be attacked at any moment. Take that bloody snake for example – none of us saw that coming."

"I suppose you're right," Harry said slowly, nodding.

"You're just saying that because you're Moody's little pet," Ron muttered angrily. He yelped as I kicked him roughly under the table, and I grinned innocently, knowing he'd have a nasty bruise in a little while.

As much as I disliked Ronald now, he did have a point and we did have a lot going on. All of us had no doubt noticed a significant increase in the amount of work we were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall had explained why when our class gave a particularly loud groan at amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told us, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer –"

"We don't take OWLs till fifth year!" Dean protested indignantly.

"Maybe not Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger and Mr. Potter are the only two people in this class who have managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion, and Miss Snow, the only student to transfigure her hedgehog into a perfect pincushion with a neat design. I might remind you that your pincushion Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Hermione, who'd become much more reserved after the incident with Ronald, hardly looked up from her desk at this mention of her accomplishments. Her grades were still impeccable and we were neck and neck, tied for top student, but she hadn't commented once. Whenever she and Draco were forced to be in the same room together, they ignored each other, speaking only directly to Harry or me. Draco had tried to remain aloof, but I could tell that Hermione's change bothered him, however much he wanted to deny it. However, not everything at Hogwarts was bad. And although we hadn't had time to get back into the Chamber of Secrets after that first time, Harry's training and physical condition had increased dramatically since he'd dropped Divination and begun, not only training with me, but also taking the potion regime I'd continued giving him. The result was that he'd shot up to at least 5'9 or 5'10, just a little shorter than Ron, and his body had filled out nicely, developing a small, but noticeable amount of muscle. This, along with the fact that I'd been showing Harry how to meditate, combined and flowed over into Harry's schoolwork, improving his marks significantly. While McGonagall had pulled us aside to remark on how proud she was to see an improvement, Ron's attitude had only gotten worse, as had his marks. Harry, Draco, and I continuously got into arguments with Ronald as time went on, but while I refused to allow him into East Tower or be around him longer than necessary, Harry adamantly stuck by his foul-tempered friend. I admired Harry's loyalty, but I felt as though he was giving it to someone undeserving of it. Hermione, who rarely spoke much in those days, simply ignored Ron anytime he tried to bait her into an argument, and this seemed to enrage him even more. None of us knew what had brought on Ron's sudden personality shift, but we knew that something horrid would come of it soon enough.

In lessons, however, I was enjoying Hogwarts indefinitely. Even though Professor Binns had us writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century – the boring ones, at that. As I had promised Hermione, I never used a Dicta Quill again and handwrote all of my History notes during class. Instead of simply copying them for Harry, I taught him how to properly take notes and how to use the meditation techniques that I had been teaching him in order to keep up with Binns' droning lecture and stay awake. Though I refused to teach Ron anything, I knew that Harry was trying – and failing – to help the resistant boy pull his grades up. Harry was trying his hardest to keep his friendship with Ron together, but as time went on, I could see that it was wearing on him as well.

Draco was all for cursing Ronald and stuffing him in some unused broom cupboard down in the dungeons.

Professor Snape was also forcing us to research antidotes. Harry, Hermione, Draco, and I took these lessons especially serious, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of us before Christmas to see if our antidote worked. In potions, Draco surprised me by keeping up with my level of success and he was second in our year for Potions, right behind me and right before Hermione, with Harry coming in forth. Professor Snape had initially been suspicious of Harry's vast increase of potion-making ability but during one of me and Draco's brewing sessions, in which we helped replenish Madam Pomfrey's supply, I had explained the extra tutoring I'd been giving Harry. Though he was reluctant to think anything good about Harry – something I didn't understand in the slightest – he'd hadn't stopped harassing Harry in class, but he'd done in it more of a challenging way, rather than simply yelling in Harry's face and vanishing his potion. None of us – Harry, Hermione, Draco, or even Snape, after I had asked him – had heard any news about the snake that possibly belonged to Voldemort or how it had gotten into the castle. After incessant badgering, Snape had also revealed that Dumbledore had never fulfilled his promise to upgrade the wards around the castle, and that made me wary – and nervous. We could be attacked again at any moment.

Professor Flitwick had asked us to read three extra books in preparation for our lesson on Summoning Charms, which was a boringly easy spell if you asked me. Rather than waste my time researching a spell that I already knew like the back of my hand, I had pulled Professor Flitwick aside after class and demonstrated that I could cast the spell perfectly already. He'd been delighted and excused me from the reading assignment, although he assigned me a short essay that required a small amount of research. Because I had already caught up in my missed assignments, I had a small bit of free time in between tutoring and training Harry, and trying to be a good friend for Draco, Hermione, and Harry, as well. In this miniscule amount of free time, I had been exchanging letters with Gnarlkin and Aunt Ava. On a personal note, Aunt Ava had reported Amalia's first bouts of accidental magic, including almost giving her mother a heart attack when she disillusioned herself for a few seconds. That was a strong bit of magic for a baby and I grinned every time I thought about the witch that Amalia would become. I had also managed to find Prim a mate – a male house-elf named Vin, to keep her company. He was rather adorable by house-elf standards, and he was incredibly sweet to Prim, taking on her heavier workload to make things easier on her. Last time I had talked to Prim, she and Vin were planning on having a little elf baby. It warmed my heart to know that Prim was so happy and would soon have her own family. Gnarlkin, on the other hand, had reported that someone had been seen lurking around my house in Opulence Alley, something that disturbed me greatly even though I wasn't living there at the time. I had warned Aunt Ava against going there because of this lurker and thankfully, she'd taken my warning seriously. I had also put in some inquiries about Harry to Gnarlkin, and although he couldn't divulge a load of information seeing as I wasn't a blood relative of Harry's, I'd learned enough to make me suspicious about quite a few people around us.

I had finally been given the privilege of meeting our Care of Magical Creatures professor, Hagrid, who was a good friend of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's – although he'd seemed taken aback by Ron's recent attitude, even during his class. But even the friendly professor was adding to our workload. After having the…_pleasure_ of being acquainted with what Hagrid called Blast-Ended Skrewts, we watched over the weeks as they grew at a remarkable pace, especially given that no one had yet discovered what those things ate. Hagrid had been delighted, however, and as part of our project, he suggested that we come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior. Harry, Hermione, and I used this as an opportunity to relax and chat with Hagrid in his hut and I learned a great deal about magical creatures from Hagrid, and in return, I delighted him with information about one of the few magical beings that he knew little about – Lycans. While we enjoyed these evenings – not everyone had the same outlook.

"I will not," Pansy Parkinson had stated flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I've seen enough of these foul, disgusting _things_ during lessons, thanks," she'd said, wrinkling her nose.

Pansy had been a particularly annoying thorn in my side over the previous few weeks, doing her best to drive a wedge between Draco and me, or force his father's hand, and so it was heart-warming to watch the smile fade off of Hagrid face as he leveled her with a cold look. "Yeh'll do what yer told," he growled, frightening the pathetic girl, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book…but instead of a ferret, I think yeh'll make a good pug, Parkinson."

The Gryffindors had all roared with laughter, hooting and holding onto each other until tears leaked from our eyes and our sides ached. Parkinson had looked to Draco to defend her, only to flounce away upon seeing him doing nothing to hide his own amusement, Zabini and Nott barely suppressing their laughter, even though their bodies visibly shook with mirth. And though I had refused to activity take part in any pranks the Weasley twins and Peeves had cooked up, I was used as a lookout because of my extra senses. In exchange for my help, I had provided targets to the three pranksters: Parkinson…and Ronald. To my surprise, the twins had been fed up with Ron's attitude along with everyone else, and had no problem pranking him or Pansy.

It was that afternoon, after lessons had ended, that things began to get even more interesting.

When we arrived in the entrance hall, we found ourselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. "Excuse me," I said, trying to get through the crowd. After several more ignored attempts, I felt my impatience flare and I set off a loud bang with my wand. "I said excuse me, dammit!" I growled, feeling a dark satisfaction as the crowd fell silent and parted. Though Ron grumbled behind us, he, Harry, and Hermione followed me through the cleared space and I stopped in front of the sign, where I read it loudly to all:

_**TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT**_

_THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS AND DURMSTRANG WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCKON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER. LESSONS WILL END HALF AN HOUR EARLY. STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST._

"Only a week away!" Ernie Macmillan, a boy I recognized from Herbology class as a Hufflepuff, said as he emerged from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows. Think I'll go and tell him…"

"Cedric's entering the tournament?" I said, excitement and worry bubbling inside of me.

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" Ron snorted as we pushed our way through the chatter crowd toward the staircase. Abruptly, I grabbed the front of Ron's shirt, lifted him off of his feet, and slammed his back into the nearest wall. After the last time I had freed my inner wolf, I had never forced her back into my core, but I still wasn't entirely used to my enhanced strength, especially when it was fueled by anger or so soon after the full moon, when my temper was still a bit harder to control.

"What did you say about my brother, Weasley?" I growled, literally, the vibration growing in my chest.

"Izzy, don't," Hermione said worriedly, ignoring Ron's grateful glance her way. "Anyone could pass by and see. I don't want you to get in trouble," she continued, and Ron's expression darkened.

I gave him one last cold look and let him drop to his feet. "If you say another word against Cedric, Hermione won't be able to stop me." I said warningly.

"Come on," Hermione said, pulling me towards the Great Hall for dinner, "Cedric will be a great champion."

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation no matter where we went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang differed from us.

"Cedric!" I had called one afternoon that week, upon finally tracking down my brother. He and his friends, amongst them was Gabriel Tate, stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Are the rumors true?" I said, grinning up at him. "Are you really entering the Tournament?"

Cedric looked apprehensive about answering, but finally nodded. "Yes, yes I am…You're…okay with that?"

"Of course I am Ricky, I'm so proud of you and I know you'll be chosen as Hogwarts champion!" Checking the time, I saw that I was about to be late for class. I pulled the much taller boy into a quick hug and pecked him on the cheek. "Hermione and I will be rooting for you!" I called over my shoulder as I took off running.

After confirming that he had my support, Cedric was much more open about his desire to enter the Tournament and I noticed that he always had a crowd of younger Hufflepuffs trailing after him – it was rather cute. I also noticed that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics. I was mystified as to why Filch even worked around children, but added it to my mental list of suspicious things here at Hogwarts.

Many other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too. "Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of another hectic lesson.

"Professor, I understand that this is a stressful time for all of us," I said calmly, unable to simply stand by and let her belittle my brother, "but that was completely uncalled for."

"Then perhaps you could teach him the spell, Miss Snow," Professor McGonagall responded, her nostrils flaring.

Pulling Neville away from the rest of the class, I forced him to look at me. "Neville, you've been doing so much better this year in almost all of your classes and this spell is an easy one, I know you can do it. You have to believe in yourself, okay? When you have no one else, you still have yourself. Now focus, but don't force it. Let it flow from your mind, through your magic, into your wand. Come on, try this again."

After my little pep-talk, it had taken Neville two more tries, but finally, on the third attempt, he successfully cast the Switching Spell – earning ten points from a thin-lipped McGonagall.

When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, we found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor Table. We'd noticed that they'd been sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices lately and today was no exception.

"…It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred.

"But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" Ron asked, sitting down next to them.

"Wish you would," Fred said, looking irritated at the interruption.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked, turning to George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," George said, pointedly turning back to his twin.

I watched as Ron's face twisted and the harsh scent of anger filled the air.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked quickly, sensing danger. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," George said bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" Ron said, attempting to join the conversation again. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before…"

I snorted and shook my head.

"What? You don't think we could do it?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Oh I know you could do it Harry," I said, raking a dismissive gaze over Ron. The obvious slight shut Ron down and he sat silently fuming for the rest of our chat with the twins.

"Besides, you haven't had your little adventures in front of a panel of judges," Fred added, "McGonagall says the champions get awarded pints according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?"

"Well," Hermione said quietly, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," We all looked at her but I smiled, Hermione just hadn't been the same lately and I wondered if it had to do with more than just Ronald, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

"I've read about that…" I said, thinking back, "it's in _Hogwarts, A History_, right?"

Hermione's expression was of someone who'd finally found a kindred spirit. "You've read it?" she said.

"Of course, I have loads of the really old version as well, I'll show you sometime," I promised.

During breakfast, Harry had gotten a simple, update note from Sirius, telling him that everything was on his end and he was still coming back. I still had warned Harry against talking to Sirius about Draco in a letter, but Sirius had assured Harry that he would be around soon and until then, we would have to wait. Other than that, it was as relatively normal as a day at Hogwarts could get. There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day, and no one was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang; and although I thoroughly enjoyed Potions, Harry seemed to relish the fact that it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I hurried up to the seventh floor and went our separate ways, dropping off our things before meeting up again at the top of the marble staircase. Cloak in hand, I draped it over my shoulders as we rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall. The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines. Glancing to the far left, I caught sight of familiar white-blonde hair. I grinned at Draco from a distance and watched as he dramatically rolled his eyes. I had to stifle my giggles as McGonagall walked down the line, barking orders.

"Weasley, straighten your hat and wipe the dirt off your nose!" she snapped at Ron.

Looking up at Harry, he looked wary as I reached up and began trying to fix his untamable hair. "It's a lost cause, Izzy. I'm almost positive that it has a mind of its own." Harry grumbled.

Taking his advice into mind, instead of trying to make it neater, I mussed it around in a way that almost looked intentional. That, combined with Harry's new body, caused an increase in attention towards him from the female population at Hogwarts. I'd noticed that as Harry's physical appearance improved, girls were paying him much more attention, sending him flirty waves and winks in the corridors, and a strong flare of anger and possessiveness rose within me every time I witnessed this.

_But why should I be possessive? It's not like Harry's my…boyfriend or anything. We're just friends._

Even as I thought that, my hands lightly trailed down his arms as I finished playing in his hair. This contact caused a slight crackle of energy to pop up along Harry's skin and I grinned, enjoying the effect I had on him. We smiled at each other, only brought back to reality as McGonagall continued snapping at various students.

"Follow me please," Professor McGonagall said. "First years in front – no pushing…"

We all filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. As I gazed up at the moon, I felt a rush of power and had to tone down the sudden brightening of the glow in my eyes. Harry gently grabbed my hand from behind me, bringing me back to earth and keeping me grounded.

"Nearly six," Ron said quietly, checking his watch and the staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it – not from that distance anyway," Harry said. "Broomsticks would be too uncomfortable for such a long flight, as well."

"A portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could apparate – maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" Hermione finally said impatiently, breaking her silence.

"What about the bloody snake, then?" Ron asked, already fired up for an argument. But Hermione, clearly not in the mood to entertain Ronald, simply rolled her eyes and fell silent. "Oi, I'm talking to you!" Ron growled as Hermione ignored him.

He took a step toward her, and my arm shot out and grabbed his. As I leveled a cold glare at him, Dumbledore broke the unsettling silence. "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbaton approaches!"

"Where?" many students exclaimed eagerly, as Ron snatched his arm away and stepped back into his place in the line.

"There!" a sixth year yelled, pointing over the forest.

Something large – shaped nothing like a broomstick, or even a hundred broomsticks – was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time. As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, bending its trees in the rush of air that followed and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, I saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage – the size of a large house – soaring toward us, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos and each the size of an elephant. The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed – then, with an almighty crash, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bounding upon its vast wheels while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes. As my eyes quickly took in the details of the carriage, I noticed that the door bore a coat of arms: two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars, but before I could peer at it more closely, the door opened. A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps and then he sprang back respectfully. Then, I saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage – a shoe the size of a child's sled – followed almost immediately by the largest woman I had ever laid eyes on in my life.

_Well, that explains the size of the horses and the carriage,_ I thought dryly.

A few people gasped.

"Blimey – that's one _big_ woman." Seamus breathed, slapping Dean on the shoulder further up the line.

As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, I could clearly see her features and saw that she seemed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck and she was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers. Dumbledore started to clap and we, following his lead, broke into loud applause too, many students standing on tiptoe to get a better look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though rather tall himself, only had to incline his head slightly to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said, "welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dort," Madam Maxime said in a deep voice, "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore said.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime said, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Every head swiveled back around to the carriage where about a dozen girls, all in their late teens by the look of them, emerged gracefully from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. The first thing I noticed was the unmistakable energy of a magical being, and as I scanned the group, I couldn't help but think that they were all pale and incredibly beautiful, though in different ways. I couldn't pinpoint exactly who the energy came from as they were standing so close together, but if another magical being was going to be here during term, things were bound to get interesting. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk and none of them were wearing cloaks, though a few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. Looking at their faces – or what I could see of them around Madame Maxime – they seemed to be staring up at Hogwarts with apprehension on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore said. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," Madame Maxime said quickly, looking down at her shivering students. "But ze 'orses –"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore reassured her, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other – err – charges."

"Bloody skrewts," I muttered, rolling my eyes as Harry stifled a snort behind me.

"My steeds require – err – forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime said, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creature teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore insisted, smiling.

"Very well," Madame Maxime said, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore said, also bowing.

"Come," Madame Maxime said imperiously to her students, and we all parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus asked, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," Harry said.

"That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," Ron said hopefully.

"Do you really want those _things_ running loose on the grounds?" I replied scathingly, my eyes still following the retreating backs of the Beauxbatons girls.

Almost all of us were shivering now, and recently, I was already being affected more and more by the coming cold weather. It was hard to concentrate with Harry's strong, warm body standing so close behind me. My vision blacked for a millisecond but when it returned, I found myself enveloped in incredible warmth. I felt strong arms go around me, pulling me closer and deeper into the warmth, and I embraced it, inhaling an irresistible scent that so naturally Harry…

My eyes snapped open and it only took me a moment to realize that I was pressed against Harry's chest, his robes – though still on his body – were wrapped around me, as were his arms. He was holding me tightly, but not uncomfortably, almost as if he had no intentions of letting go anytime soon. I briefly thought about pushing away until I felt the rumble of his deepening voice through his chest.

"Is that better, Izzy?" Harry murmured into my hair, shifting so that he was holding up most of my weight. I hadn't even realized that I was leaning so heavily on him, but my small frame didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Suddenly shy, I couldn't speak but instead nodded and sighed contently, snuggling as close as possible into Harry's robes. Peeking out every few minutes, I could see that most of the other students were still gazing hopefully up at the sky, the silence only being broken by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping.

My ears twitched and perked up as I heard a distinct bubbling and sloshing sound. "The lake," I said loudly, wriggling out of Harry's embrace and looking in that direction.

Everyone looked over at the Black Lake and from our position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds we had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water – except the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center, great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were not washing over the muddy banks – and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool – and then we saw the rigging…

"It's a mast!" Harry gasped.

Slowly, magnificent, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, we heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank. People, clearly male from their figures, were disembarking. I could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them had oddly shaped bodies, but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, we saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of smooth, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my old friend, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle, I saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his salt and pepper hair was short, and his goatee (finished in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow and as I naturally assessed his features, I saw this smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd.

_There's something…dark about him – something I don't particularly trust…but Professor Snape has the same feel around him. Hmm, I may have to watch this Professor Karkaroff._

"How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… You don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…" Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students.

As the boy passed, wearing a fur cape of a much better quality than his peers, I instantly noted the prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. I didn't need the punch on the arm Ron gave Harry or the hiss, to recognize that profile.

"Oh Merlin," I breathed, my body flooding with warmth, "it's Viktor Krum!"


End file.
